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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23384056">Love in the Time of Technoplague</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SullustanGin/pseuds/SullustanGin'>SullustanGin</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Corellian Whiskey and Sullustan Gin [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Assassination Attempt(s), Banter, Business Partners to Friends, Canon-Typical Violence, Chaotic Good never dies, Childhood Memories, Corellian Whiskey, Coronavirus-inspired, Denial of Feelings, Developing Relationship, Droids doing droid stuff, During Canon, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Introspection, Mutual Pining, Revenge, Scheming, Slow Burn, Some Humor, Star Wars: The Old Republic - Forged Alliances, Team as Family, Theft, Theron and feels, Trust Issues, Unresolved Sexual Tension, attempt at comfort met by snark more accurately, competent crew, end stage capitalism, sullustan gin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 15:02:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>43,407</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23384056</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SullustanGin/pseuds/SullustanGin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Manaan confrontation/heist, Darth Arkous takes notice of the inconvenient smuggler and tries to wipe Theron Shan's favored pawn from the game board.</p><p>The Voidhound doesn't take this well and retaliates against the entire Imperial economy.</p><p>This takes place during Forged Alliances beginning just before the Manaan flashpoint and ending just before the events on Rakata Prime (Lehon).</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Theron Shan/Female Smuggler, Theron Shan/Smuggler</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Corellian Whiskey and Sullustan Gin [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1642009</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Fic Journal of the Plague Year</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Cabin Fever</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Captain Eva Corolastor knows an opportunity when she sees one.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>All of the following are canon in the Smuggler story:  Corso was a drug mule, Risha's financial plans are always screwed up by our good-hearted heroine, and Guss wants hand signals to convey certain information....</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When one person merges into a heaving sea of humanity, they are never noticed.  They are the last thing anyone looks at.  Therefore, if a person wants to be alone, anonymous, the best place to go is a cantina, the Galactic Trade Market, a busy city street. Nobody knows or cares that the person is there.  They are not dramatically out on a scenic rock somewhere, hair blowing in the wind during a storm.  In that scenario, they are the only person for miles around; that actually makes them a likely target of conversation or engagement.  If they don’t want to be seen, then they go somewhere where there are too many people. </p><p>This was Captain Eva Corolastor’s line of thought as she sought solitude after too many weeks of feeling overexposed to the world and yet cooped up.  She moved through the crowds on Carrick Station.  She had no particular destination or need to be anywhere.  She just wanted to get lost. </p><p>Two months had passed since Eva had “dismissed Ivory from the Voidhound’s service.”  That was a euphemistic way of putting it.  “Tied up loose ends from Belsavis” was another.  “Paid Charon his due.”  “Aided Ivory in rejoining the cosmos.”  “Spaced the trash out an airlock.” </p><p>That last one actually did happen.</p><p>After uncovering the traitor at Port Nowhere, Ivory’s data about the Voidhound had ultimately gone nowhere fast within PubSec; Colonel Rian Darok had shown no interest in the offer.  The Sith at Tython, Darth Arkous, didn’t seem to have received anything from Ivory. “Seem” was the key word.  Eva Corolastor knew that.  That was the word that kept her awake slightly later than usual and woke her a few minutes earlier the following day.  She constantly watched for loose ends.</p><p>Colonel Darok’s list of over a thousand smugglers, provided by SIS Agent Theron Shan, had been (manually) cross referenced with Port Nowhere’s files.  There were just under a hundred spacers that had no affiliation with Voidfleet or to Captain Corolastor personally.  This was still a significant number, but the trim had rendered a much more manageable number for Theron to investigate for connections to Darok or Arkous. </p><p>After spending a day working through the Port Nowhere files and coming up with a final list of smugglers together, eliminating those in custody or otherwise incapacitated, Eva had dropped Theron off at his high-rise in the early morning hours with nice bottle of whiskey.</p><p>He was a good business partner.  He might be a friend.</p><p>Two months had passed.  There had been no further progress.</p><p>Eva had gone on a hot streak at pazaak however, so she went from table to table across the galaxy until business demanded her attention.  She was only noticed in the last few hands of any competition – tolerable enough.  Republic Fleet had a game starting tonight.</p><p>Eva leaned back against the wall in the foyer between the Galactic Trade Hall and the rest of Carrick Station to check her messages.  Nothing from Theron Shan (for a month). New message from Rogun.</p><p>
  <em>Chatter on Makeb project is getting hot.  We have interested customers but no interested observers.  Ready when you are.</em>
</p><p>Still no indication the Empire or the Republic was interested in her awful little scheme.  Eva still hesitated to employ it.  Ivory was correct that it would strangle out a ring of trade.  She never liked curtailing potential.  Theron was correct that it would be a great project for SIS.  She wasn’t fighting a war with the Sith Empire. </p><p>Eva pushed herself off the wall with her left boot and started to make her way toward the cantina.  She’d gotten wind of some old XS parts hitting the Galactic Trade Network today, and the seller was <em>late</em>, and she was getting <em>pissed</em>.  Eva’s patience was reserved for the card table, not for people.  The pazaak tournament was a good five hours away.  She needed a drink to restore her tolerance for people, whether it was a hot cup of tea or a Sullustan gin and tonic.  Probably the former.</p><p>A beep and familiar tweet captured her attention, diverting her from her errand.  As she looked to her right, a familiar astromech seemed to peer around the corner at her, then skittered back behind.  When Eva did not immediately follow, the droid rolled forward again and whistled at her, then hid himself again.</p><p>A one-sided smile crossed the smuggler’s face, and she willingly followed the droid to a small corridor, away from most of the hustle and bustle of the space station.  “Hey, T3.  Has Theron Shan checked in lately?”</p><p>T3-G2 rolled back further, drawing her completely into the shadows.  “Suspicious eyes = everywhere // You = stand closer.”</p><p>Eva cast a glance around her and then merged with the darkness. </p><p>“Theron Shan = on mission,”  T3 sent through his digital jabber. </p><p>“What kind of mission?” she whispered back.</p><p>“You = back him up?”  The droid blipped hopefully.</p><p>Eva looked over her shoulder, making sure no one was watching.  “Are you asking or is he?”</p><p>Eva stifled a giggle as the droid was slightly caught out, not immediately responding to her.  “If T3 = still go?”  The droid gave a hopeful beep.  “Theron Shan = stubborn.” </p><p>“Oh, I can imagine,” she replied.  “Why me?  If it’s a mission, why not an SIS—"</p><p>T3’s top spun around twice before interrupting.  “Theron Shan = investigating high level treason.”  The small smile Eva had disappeared.  It sounded as if Theron had indeed found something.  “Potential conspirators = everyone //  You = trust no one!”  came an excited, shrill buzz. </p><p>“Not even SIS?” she asked, already knowing the answer.</p><p>“Affirmative // Theron Shan location = Manaan // You = travel cautiously + watch for tails.”  The droid spun its head one more time, then rocked on his wheels.  “Please?”</p><p>Eva extended a hand to pat the droid on the head.  “I’ll do it for you.”  T3 let out happy trill. </p><p>As one hand rested on T3’s head, Eva raised her wrist comm.  “Corolastor to crew.  Pazaak tournament is cancelled.  Something came up.  More info when we’re back on-board.”  Eva cut the comm and looked down at T3.  “Thanks for the heads up.”</p><p>“You = be safe.”  T3 whirred at her before exiting the shadow and rolling out to be lost among the throng of droids and sentients on Carrick Station.</p><p>Eva stood in the shadows awhile longer.  Manaan.  Sole source of kolto in the galaxy. </p><p>The Voidhound had an idea.</p><p>**</p><p>Guss ran his hands over his new coat.  “Never had one of these before – I look sharp.”</p><p>Eva looked up from her datapad with some amusement.  She was doing some brisk research on Manaan before they entered the atmosphere, and Guss was strutting in front of the closet mirror behind the co-pilot’s seat.  “Just remember, it doesn’t just look good – it’s meant to carry out everything you can get your sticky fingers on.”</p><p>Guss nodded.  “Kolto makes the galaxy work. We’ll be rolling in credits.”  He spun around in the mirror on the hatch.  Gus’ new blue jacket had dozens of hidden pockets, from the collar down just past his knees.  Eva planned on wearing a similar model herself, but in a slimmer profile with a hood in a warmer grey tone.  This was less conspicuous than the giant, dramatic black hat and coat she typically wore while in guise. She was just Captain Corolastor, for this mission, a smuggler who was going a bit stir crazy waiting for --- something. </p><p>Once T3 had secured a landing code for Virtue’s Thief, the captain and the crew had agreed not to waste the opportunity, if it presented itself.  The plan was that, if it were possible, Eva and Guss would raid a kolto lab, then the <em>Thief </em>would make a run to the Mid Rim immediately after this rendezvous with Theron. There was a shortage of med supplies at the edge of Hutt space that the Empire, the Republic, and the Hutts were simply not handling well; it would make money, but it was also a stop-gap measure of mercy.</p><p>But mostly it was about making money. Not too much – but certainly enough to compensate for the rarity of access to Manaan, a world closed off to most of the galaxy, and the high-quality of the kolto – straight from the source, no preservatives, fresh off the farm. </p><p>Ok, maybe a bit too much. </p><p>Eva figured she’d let Risha do the big math, then ruin it slightly with her “do-gooder tendencies,” as the Drayen heir referred to them.</p><p>The control tower on Manaan hailed them as they entered the atmosphere and Eva flipped a few switches to send over the landing code.   Show time.</p><p>**</p><p>The gentle patter of rain fell down around Manaan’s Mercantile Plaza. Eva stepped out from under an awning and did not bother to raise her hood.  Guss gave her a side-wise glance.  “What, Guss?”</p><p>“Eh.  It makes no difference to me being wet or not, but women with hair tend to get uppity about being rained on.  And then there’s you.”</p><p>Eva gave a short laugh as she raised her face toward the sky before they began their short walk between buildings toward the office marked by T3 as Theron’s workspace.  “Spacers like me could go months, years, without feeling rain, without being on a planet.  We don’t miss it until we do.” </p><p>And she did like rain, its sound and feel.  Akaavi said she could smell it coming and would stay inside, but Eva did not have that sense – or the common sense to come in out of the rain right away.  It was novel to someone who was born on a ship in transit and spent most of her life as such. Most weather was. </p><p>Eva returned her eyes to the plaza around them, carefully looking for any familiar faces that shouldn’t be there.  She drew up her hood, casting shadow onto her face and finally retreating from the rain.  Something did not feel right.</p><p>“…I can sense them.  You know.” Guss looked around, nervously, before shirking back into his coat. </p><p>“How many?” she said quietly, lips barely moving.  Guss’s relationship with the Force was a bizarre one, but sometimes – and only sometimes – it was actually useful.</p><p>“Don’t know. Just got here.”  He cleared his throat.  “So, how about those Rotworms?”</p><p>Eva made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sigh.  “Guss, in terms of playing it cool, does it look or sound right that I’d be into the Rotworms?”</p><p>“Right.  How about those Frogdogs?”</p><p>Eva pressed her lips together tightly.  “Guss, am I into Huttball at all?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Does it look like I’d be into Huttball at all?”</p><p>“No, you’re right.  This isn’t going to work out,” Guss sighed.  “We’re too different.  You have no idea how many times I’ve said that to a girl.”</p><p>Eva didn’t say anything that would jeopardize her friendship with Guss.  Mindfully.  “We need to observe and hide in plain sight. You know, like how Agent Shan did back on Port Nowhere.” </p><p>Guss tilted his head toward her.  “It’s a lot easier when you have a helmet on and you can hide your emotions and reactions.”</p><p>Eva turned to look at Guss from under her hood, but instead looked just past him toward the center of the plaza.  “Granted, but let’s be honest, Guss.  How many non-Mon Cal sentients can read a Mon Cal face beyond neutral, happy, and surprised?”</p><p>Guss stopped in his tracks for a moment.  “Good point.  We do make good gamblers.”  The pair paused at a planter.  “So how do I act as if I’m not looking for someone who’s looking for me?  ‘Sniveling underworld minion’ is sort of my default.”</p><p>Eva positioned herself so that she could see the full lay of the plaza.  “Currently, you’re talking to me as a friend.  They think I’m looking at you when I’m looking at them.  You’re my screen.  This is an easy thing for you to do to start.”</p><p>Guss considered this.  “Is there any way I can screw it up?”</p><p>“If I tell you, you’ll do it.”  Eva knew Guss far too well. </p><p>“Oh, it’s like ‘don’t turn around!’ And then they turn around and it was a really bad idea because they freeze in place and make it obvious.  Like this.” </p><p>Guss proceeded to turn around and do exactly that.  Eva felt as if she were transcending and becoming the physical embodiment of a sigh. </p><p>Eva clapped a hand on Guss’ shoulder.  “Exactly,” she said as he turned back around.  “Now, technically, from your side, you could do the same thing – look past me and look at the stores behind me. I won’t turn around.”</p><p>Guss intently stared past her.  “Make sure your eyes come back to me, speak to me.  Also, you can see 180 degrees – you don’t have to fixate in one place.”</p><p>Guss settled into this exercise much easier.  “What if I’m alone?”</p><p>“You ever been a tourist?”</p><p>“Yeah.” </p><p>“Just play that role for now.   So, you been here before, Guss?”  Eva turned and began to walk again.</p><p>“Nope. Guss peered down the plaza, his flitting gaze that of a consummate tourist.  “Lot of Mon Cals. The Pub rep who negotiated for trading was one.  Selkath don’t seem to mind them as much as the humans.”  He trotted momentarily to catch up to Eva. </p><p>“Which is why you’re here.”  Something bright caught her eye, just out of her left periphery.  She turned to look at Guss, spinning to walk backwards, eyes not quite directly on him, but close enough. </p><p>“I thought I was just supposed to be a mule.” Guss shoved his hands into his spacious pockets.</p><p>“No, if I wanted a mule, I’d bring Corso,” Eva said distractedly as she gave a second glance to a shiny helmet just out of her line of vision.  Huh.  Guss guffawed as she continued, “If we can make friends here, then we might have some long-term business here.” </p><p>“And they like Mon Cal better than humans.”  Guss paused.  “I’m doing it, right?” he whispered to her, a little too loudly.</p><p>“Depends.”</p><p>“Shiny helmet on a delivery guy at what is now 8 o’clock.  You saw him too.”</p><p>Eva nodded. </p><p>“There are three that I can sense.”  Guss let the words hang in the air as they moved into the office building.</p><p>A pause. “Well, you did say it was random.”</p><p>“Yeah. There’s three that are looking for you.  I don’t know who.  Or why.  They might just think you’re hot,” Guss murmured.</p><p>Eva nodded, then abruptly changed subject, speaking a bit louder.  “So, if we run into any Selkath here or in the labs, charm their gills off.  I’ll fade into the background – if we do well here, we’ll have long-term business.”</p><p>Guss nodded in the affirmative, catching the shift.  “Speaking of charm, do you want to make hand signals, finally?  So I know when to go?”  They walked up to the room where Theron, in theory, was working.</p><p>“Hand signals for what?”  Eva took at him, confused.</p><p>“For when you invite Spy Guy to charge up your loading ramp,” Guss said blithely.  Eva gave Guss the dirtiest look she could muster as the door swished open and Theron turned to greet them.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Too Old For This</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Guss makes a briefing either more irritating or more amusing -- not sure which one.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Hey I just called T3 to have him find you, and he said you were already on the way.  That’s some – impress-- ive time---ing,” Theron trailed off, eyes bouncing between the smuggler and the Mon Cal, who had yet to acknowledge his presence. </p><p>Guss shrugged innocently. Eva sighed and shook her head as she walked through the door, pushing back her hood.  Guss was going to get a hot blaster to the mouth one of these days, but she knew she’d laugh her ass off about it later.  Even now, she had a begrudging grin on her face. </p><p>Theron kept looking between the two figures as Guss plonked himself down in a chair at a nearby desk, and Eva perched herself on the far end of the desk.  “Did I miss something?”</p><p>“Nope,” they replied in unison.  Eva offered a brief, “Hey, Theron” and Guss waved, once they situated themselves.</p><p>Eva crossed her arms and met Theron’s bemused look.  “You have a very loyal little astromech.” The corners of Theron’s mouth turned upward, slightly.  “He says some outrageous things though.  Something about you being stubborn,” Eva mockingly gestured to the non-present ridiculous little droid.</p><p>“Stubborn, me?” Theron gestured at himself, feigning surprise.</p><p>“Especially when asking people for help,” Eva leaned into the words a bit.  The stubbornness was no shocker – she’d gathered that about him from when he’d sat there with her to go through all thousand smuggler names, like a lunatic.  The hesitance to ask for help would probably be something to be aware of, if he was a catastrophic procrastinator in that department.</p><p>“No idea what he’s talking about.”  Theron picked up his datapad and started to pull up various files, the task seemingly absorbing all his attention. </p><p>Eva and Guss exchanged a look over the table.  “What are you doing here, Theron?” she asked.</p><p>“Digging, just like I said I would.  Let me show you what I’ve got so far.”  With a final triumphant punch of his finger, a holo came up at a desk on the far side of the room. </p><p>Eva rose to walk over to the desk and view the holo, Guss close on her heels  “Oh boy, cloak and vibro-knife spy stuff,” he muttered. “You ever watch that holo series as a kid?  Shiv Starrunner, Intergalactic Man of Mystery?” </p><p>Eva focused her attention on Theron’s holo of Colonel Darok, even as she fought off the impulse to cackle at Guss. “Can’t say I did.” </p><p>Theron rolled on, fully in business mode.  “The original function of the Korriban raid was to gather valuable intelligence data from the Dark Council Chamber – that little red data repository you retrieved.  None of that has been turned over to the SIS.” </p><p>Even as Theron was trying to have a very serious, grown-up briefing, Guss was humming the theme song to Shiv Starrunner.</p><p>Theron flipped to another holo:  Arkous.  “Darth Arkous, member of the Dark Council, organizer of the attack on the Jedi Temple – you spoke to him on Tython.  He’s the Minister of Military Offense for the Sith Empire.”</p><p>“Not surprising,”  Eva crossed her arms as she contemplated the image in front of her.  “He hit Tython pretty hard – he wouldn’t be operating independently.  Or at least, he wouldn’t appear to be independent at this time.”</p><p>Theron nodded.  “Appearances are everything here.” </p><p>The Shiv Starrunner theme song reached a dramatic crescendo.  Then it started over again.</p><p>Theron looked up from his datapad, irked. Before he could say anything to Guss, Eva deadpanned. “If he’s humming and reliving his childhood, he doesn’t have time to steal anything in the office.  Unless you want to pay for it later, let him.” </p><p>Eva could see Theron’s patience hanging by a limited number of threads.  Smuggler briefings were not his cup of tea.  “Well, I better make it more interesting then.”   Now both Darok and Arkous were projected up from holo.  And they were in the same space – it was not two separate holos, but rather, they were together.</p><p>Eva’s eyes lit up.   “You’ve found a connection between them?”  Guss stopped humming. </p><p>Eva saw Theron untense as the silence finally came.  “Yes.  They’ve both been paying visits to the same genetics lab, in an underwater facility here on Manaan.  They’re headed down there again as we speak.”  Theron motioned to her with his hand. “As I said, impressive timing.”</p><p>Eva frowned.  A genetics lab was not the same thing as a kolto lab.  “Is it some kind of medical treatment facility?  Experimental research?  Something else?”  She wasn’t going to goof off with experimental things she didn’t understand.  Kolto was guaranteed money. </p><p>Yes, helping Theron mattered, but so did payday. </p><p>“There’s no documentation for the lab’s purpose, but traffic in and out is mostly freight, not passenger.  Probably research, which fits my other findings,” Theron pulled up a few schematics, and the holo projector displayed them. </p><p>Something in Eva’s mind faintly made a connection.  It was old and distant.  She couldn’t place it.  But she had seen whatever it was Theron was displaying before.  Eva consciously put her Voidhound mask on – her face took on a flat, neutral expression.  She knew that whenever she was puzzling over something, she looked furious or completely disgusted.  Theron didn’t need to wonder about her while trying to keep Guss from breaking out into song at the same time.</p><p>“With Darok and Arkous working together, the timing of the attacks makes perfect sense.  They weren’t really attacks at all – they were robberies,” Theron said.</p><p>Guss now looked at Theron, curiously. “But that’s what you hired us to do – pinch data from the Dark Council.  I mean, I would have probably gotten you more stuff, but you know, the Captain would have been like ‘don’t bring that on my ship.’  Or ‘don’t put things in your mouth, Guss, you don’t know where it’s been’ or ‘don’t put that in Corso’s mouth, I know he has a snoring problem but you still can’t do that.’”</p><p>Theron shook his head, desperate to get back on topic.  “No, other items were taken.  Your Mandalorian was right.”  Holo stills flashed briefly on top of the schematics. “It was staged.”</p><p>The holo projector put forth a stream of holo stills, first from the Jedi Temple and then from Korriban.  Theron enlarged the projection and slowly began to swipe through, pointing as he narrated.  “The Imps hauled something out of the Jedi Temple just before you got there, right before I sliced in.  A few security holos were still working so I got a shot of it.” </p><p>Behind her composed pazaak face, Eva’s brain was running wild. <em>Where</em> had she seen this before?  <em>Why</em> couldn’t she remember?  Maybe it was this long stint of sobriety – after all these years, maybe her brain needed a shot of alcohol a day to keep the engine running.  She wondered if the lack of sleep was catching up to her.  It could be the paranoia that she was being followed, which was only worsened by T3’s warning.  Just because she was paranoid didn’t mean they weren’t out to get her, however. </p><p>Theron continued his briefing.  “Darok’s top guy, Commander Jensyn, grabbed something similar on Korriban.  I ran images through some databases – they were pieces of ancient Rakata technology.”</p><p>Eva felt the light go on, and she felt the spark of intellect buzz through her.  <em>Aha. </em>Maybe it was just the fact that Eva was old enough to begin to forget things, only to have the memory appear when conjured by the right words.</p><p>This was uncharted ground for a smuggler.  To live long enough to forget.  Hmmm.  She loosened her emotional control and stepped in toward the projected images and motioned toward them in mid-air.  The security stills flew away and Eva was left with the Rakata schematics.  Eva exhaled as she manipulated the schematics, turning them around in three dimensions.  “To clarify.  Technology from the ruthless empire that conquered the galaxy before the founding of the Republic?  You sure?”</p><p>“Yes.  You can understand my concern.”  Theron kept an eye on the screen as he answered her.  “You know something of them beyond a history holo?”</p><p>“More than that.”  Eva’s hands flew over to her comm unit.  “Captain’s log, archive access.”  Eva paused for a second, eyes moving back and forth rapidly as she calculated a date.   “Yeah, it is five years now.  Long time.”  A few swift motions over her comm unit.  “Attaching  log entries and sending it through to you.  Directly.” </p><p>Theron nodded as he waited for his implants to receive and then import into his personal datapad.  “So no vial of blood required?” he quietly teased.</p><p>Eva’s lips parted in a small smile.  “Only the first time I set up access to my comm link and whenever I update the software.  Typically means it’s time for a physical anyway, so two fleek eels with one trident.” </p><p>Theron blinked.  “Seriously?”</p><p>“Makes sense both in terms of security and in terms of health care.”</p><p>“In a very strange world, yes.”</p><p>Eva wordlessly gestured to her entire universe.  Guss pointed at himself for emphasis.  Theron sighed, his acknowledgement of the truth</p><p>Eva continued, “I blew up some Rakata tech on Tatooine, about five years ago, in order to make sure Czerka didn’t get its hands on it.  The Rakata had a thing for leaving world-ending machines on random planets.”</p><p>Now Theron stopped, and Eva realized his brain was going through the same acrobatics hers had been.  Maybe everyone started to lose their memories in their late twenties.  Or maybe everyone needed a drink to grease the wheels.  “Sounds like an SIS clean up op,” Theron murmured slowly as he accessed his datapad. </p><p>“Yeah, there was an agent there as my handler.  I don’t remember his name off the top of my head.  Captain’s log would have it.  Cross reference that with the research, may shine some light as to what’s going on.  I will say that the world-ender tech was stationary – it wasn’t going anywhere fast without massive disassembly,” Eva added.  “But there were…. Zombies, for lack of a better description.  Whatever Czerka personnel had been left behind – living or dead – did what the tech asked.” Eva’s volume had tapered off as she turned the matter over in her mind.</p><p>An uneasy silence consumed the room as Eva and Theron started to consider how big this might actually be.  They shared a worried look, and then Eva looked back at Guss, who was also perturbed.  He put words to it.  “This is bad.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Theron affirmed, face grim.  “I’m pretty sure Darok and Arkous have brought their Rakata tech to the lab.”  Theron brought up a new blueprint, one of the Manaan lab they were to infiltrate.  “You’re going to have to go in to figure out what exactly they’re doing with it.  I’ve arranged transport to get you in, but security will probably come after you with more than smiles.  Don’t let them slow you down.”</p><p>Eva and Guss silently nodded.  Theron crossed back across the room to a spare datapad and briefly consulted it.  “While you’re searching the laboratory for Arkous and Darok, I’m going to meet with one last contact.  You arrived early, so the time table is moving faster than I thought it would.  I think she might have some interesting intel for us.”</p><p>“She?  Your source got a name?”  Eva was internally appalled at herself at how quickly she asked about “she.”  She expected that out of a jealous teenager, not herself. </p><p>Theron caught it, and a minor wave of surprise rippled through him.  That was quickly replaced by a professional veneer, as if he hadn’t heard any particular note in her question. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.  Good luck down there.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Heist</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Even when Eva has extracurricular activity planned for her work with the SIS agent, Guss has his own extracurricular objectives.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Minus the entire laboratory turning out to greet them and obstruct their path, everything went well initially.  Eva kept an eye on some of the side doors that strayed away from the main route of the genetics lab.  Unlocked ones were of little interest – probably broom closets of no value.  Finally, she came across one that was locked – to keep valuable product or people in, or to keep thieves out.  Either way, Eva was opening it.  Eva pointed with her chin to a corner, and Guss set up there, watching for security as she holstered her blaster.  She pulled out her omnitool.  It sliced, it diced, it opened cans, and it hacked security locks.  All it required was a light touch and a good ear to remove it promptly.  It was an older model (as in, older than her mother older), and many modern locks no longer installed fail-safes against its method of lockpicking. </p><p>The downside to her omnitool was that it took time and patience.  In exchange for its effectiveness, it worked through the binary system; each 0 or 1 had to be individually determined as the machine slithered its way through the digital security net.  It didn’t trip anything at such a minor level, but one needed time for it to pull through.  Eva quietly set the tool to work as she signaled Theron – best keep him distracted while she stood in one place. </p><p>“Captain to Intel.  Status report?”</p><p>Theron’s voice came over her earpiece.  “There’s nothing coming up behind you – you’ve done well in disabling the security alerts and all of the guards along the way.  The chief of security is in the next laboratory.  He appears to be with a prisoner.”   She heard a rapid beeping from his end.  “Looks like my contact is here.  She can wait for a moment, though.”</p><p>Eva said nothing to that – she could hear the bait in his voice. </p><p>“Interesting. The prisoner here – someone named ‘Jakarro.’  I’ll bet he could share some interesting stories with us, if someone would liberate him.”  Theron let the idea hang in the air. </p><p>Eva startled at the name.  Apparently, her memory wasn’t decayed after all.  “Check the smuggler list.  That’s ringing bells on my end.”</p><p>“Yeah…” Theron let the word out slowly.  “They needed the smuggler to bring in freight – something they weren’t supposed to have.  Otherwise they could have just brought it in on Manaan’s usual trade patterns.  Now he’s a prisoner.”</p><p>“Knew too much? Got caught with his hands in the goods?” Eva threw the ideas out there, even as she watched her omnitool’s lights whirl around, picking its way through the lab’s security lock.  Speaking of hands, goods, and sticky fingers….</p><p>She could hear the creak of Theron’s jacket as he turned – it sounded as if he was turning all the way around.  “Contact’s here. Find out what you can from Jakarro, if he’s alive when you get down there.  Watch your step.”  Then the comm cut out. </p><p>Eva peeled her eyes away from the omnitool.  “We still good, Guss?” she asked quietly.</p><p>“Yeah.  No motion at the door.  Wish it would hurry up though,” he answered, shifting his weight nervously.</p><p>“As I said before, any of you want to get me a new lockpick with the same effectiveness, I’m open to it.”</p><p>Guss shook his head.  “First, I’m cheap.  Second, I lost all my credits on Nar Shadaa.  Third, I don’t mess with 100% success rates, even if they are slower than a Hutt on a waterslide.” </p><p>Eva allowed a smile at that visual.  Now it was a waiting game. </p><p>Eva had privately decided they weren’t leaving Manaan without something to show for it other than warm fuzzy feelings from doing a good deed.  She had wasted too many days waiting: waiting for the Makeb deal, waiting to see if the Empire came after her, waiting for the next part of the conspiracy to come to light, waiting for XS parts to come on the market, waiting for a holo call –</p><p>She swore she wouldn’t wait anymore.  Not after – click. </p><p>Guss turned to face her.  “I like that sound, boss.”  Eva nodded and carefully removed the omnitool.  She drew her blaster and lead with it through the door on her knees. </p><p>Empty of people.   But not empty of product.  “Jackpot,” Eva whispered. </p><p>She rose to her feet and waved Guss in.  This was a small, but fully loaded, kolto lab. It was little more than an aisle with in-built shelving and two refrigerated units in the middle, but all Eva could see was green-blue vial after green-blue vial, color-coded.  She could see the different strains and the different tinctures that one could purchase via med droid.  There were also a few military-grade distillations that she’d only seen in emergency triage centers. </p><p>Eva pointed to the far end of the lab.  “Work from the end to the middle.  Prioritize the high quality first, then as much of the usual stuff as you can.  They’re already in shatter and crush-proof vials, so don’t hesitate to stack.  The coat will expand.”  Eva was already pocketing vials with both hands, each bright green-blue prize disappearing into her interior coat pockets. </p><p>“If we don’t move in ten, Spy Guy might get suspicious,” Guss said.  Eva nodded, focused on her task. </p><p>For about eight minutes (Eva kept her eye on the chrono; Guss’s supposition was likely correct), there was no sound in the room but the odd clink of vials.  Eva and Guss steadily worked their way toward the middle of the room.  </p><p>Just after the eight minute mark, Eva heard an unmistakable noise.  It could not be anything else.  But how?  “Guss, what are you eating?”   She looked toward the center of the lab, where Guss was working. </p><p>“Somebody left their lunch in the fridge.”</p><p>“Which fridge?” she asked slowly.  She could see two refrigerators near to Guss’s thieving.  One was labeled “Food – Safe for Consumption.”</p><p>The other:  “Virology Samples:  Military Grade Testing”</p><p>“Does it matter?” Guss asked, shoving two more vials into his collar, completely oblivious.</p><p>Eva closed her eyes.  “Yes, Guss, yes, it does.”   She muttered a particularly vile series of obscenities before asking, “Which fridge?”</p><p>As an afterthought, it would be absolutely fitting for her universe if Theron and his contact opened coms at that exact moment.  Fortunately, the universe was kind that day.  She <em>only</em> had to deal with catching the plague. </p><p>“Uhhhmmm.”  Guss stared at the two fridges that stood between them.  “I’m pretty sure whatever I ate was egg salad.” </p><p>Eva shoved another vial into her back hip internal pocket.  “How are you only ‘pretty sure’ you ate egg salad and not a kriffing biological weapon?”</p><p>Guss’s stomach gurgled. </p><p>“Mother of Moons.”  Eva activated her comm link.  “Captain to ship.  Can you activate Guss’s bio reader?  We need an evaluation of his… current state of health.”</p><p>“We read you, Captain,” Risha’s even tone came over the commlink.  “What happened?”</p><p>“I ate something I shouldn’t have,” Guss replied.</p><p>There was static over the line as Risha absorbed this information.  “What did you find to eat in a laboratory? And <em>WHY</em> would you eat it?”  </p><p>“Good question,” Eva replied.  “Should I shoot him now to prevent potential spread, or should we wait until he starts showing symptoms?”</p><p>“I vote now,” came Akaavi’s voice.</p><p>“You’re biased.” Guss shook a finger at the commlink and stepped forward.  Eva took a step back and extended her arm away from her, keeping Guss at distance. </p><p> “I’m the one with the medical data  -- you can leave.” Eva could hear the irritation in Risha’s voice.  “Did he eat something viral or bacterial?”</p><p>“Viral.  Maybe military-grade.”</p><p>Risha exhaled.  “We probably won’t know anything for 12 hours.  Just….don’t let him breathe on you.” </p><p>“I’m pretty sure it was egg salad,” repeated Guss.</p><p>“Who eats other people’s food out of an office fridge?  You don’t know where they’ve been.”  Risha gagged. “Anyway, it’s going to take a virus time to actually work up enough strength to be transmittable.  Even if he did eat it.  You probably have a few hours.  I would say we lock him in quarters once he’s on the ship.”</p><p>Eva nodded.  “Roger that.  Monitor his vitals anyway.  I don’t want any surprises, like him turning into a rakghoul forty-five minutes from now.  Captain out.”</p><p>“Acknowledged.  Ship out.” </p><p>Eva dropped her arm and just stared at Guss.  “I’m sorry?”  Guss offered, cautiously.</p><p>“Keep your distance, and if we find Darok and Arkous, cough on them.”  Eva gave the lab a once-over.  “Your coat full?”</p><p>“Yeah. Wouldn’t try to load up more or else I’m going to have issues maneuvering.” </p><p>Eva nodded – she’d reached the same conclusion.  Eva wordlessly opened the lab door and stepped through quickly.  “Distance,” she reminded him quietly.  Guss nodded, abashed.</p><p>As Eva approached the corner where Guss had sat watch fifteen minutes before, she could see the chief of security walking through the laboratory door and the far end of the downward ramp. “Hold up.  I got this.”</p><p>Eva drew her blaster and crouched at the corner, slowly edging her way around until the security chief was in her sights.  A single blaster shot to the chest, and he collapsed just outside the laboratory door. </p><p>Eva remained low as she hustled down the ramp, Guss clomping along behind her, the vials in his coat rattling.  Eva attempted to see through the laboratory glass as to whether she was approaching a live target to extract or a dead one to report to Theron.  She rose up slightly to see over a shelf ---</p><p>And then a door swung open to her right.  Instinctively, she threw up a deflector shield.  Guss stood up and lobbed a thermal grenade before moving past her in a wide arc down toward the lab.  He shot at the ceiling – Eva then realized there was automated security cam with basic facial recognition -- it knew when a person wasn’t part of regular lab staff, not that it could actually match Eva with a name.  Eva silently cursed herself, then got to fighting the droids that were already discombobulated from Guss’s grenade blast. </p><p>The hallway clear, Eva and Guss moved into the laboratory.  Guss silently sealed the door shut behind them – no more surprises.  As Eva crossed the laboratory floor toward the main computer, she heard someone say in Shyriiwook, “It’s our lucky day.  Convince these saps to let us out of here.”</p><p>Eva looked around before seeing a large Wookiee in a containment cell.  Good grief, he was bigger than Bowdaar.  The necklace – no, the droid head around his neck began to speak once it realized that Eva had seen them.  “Greetings!  My master compliments your impressive skill and would like to share his appreciation for this noble rescue,” came the overly cheery tones of the protocol droid …head.  Silently, Eva threw open her comm back to Theron and let him listen in on the conversation, ready or not.</p><p>This ought to be good.  “Sorry, not the first Wookiee I’ve met – try again,” she answered in Shyriiwook.”</p><p>The droid’s eyes flickered, as if blinking.  “Oh dear,” it commented, realizing that Eva had likely heard Jakarro calling her a sap.  Deciding that groveling was the best path forward, the droid wailed, “Please let us out of here!  We beg you!”</p><p>“I beg for nothing, droid! You release us.  We can slaughter the rest of those backstabbers together!”  The Wookiee growled. </p><p>“Let’s start with who you are and how you got here in the first place.”  Eva stood back and away from both Guss and the containment cell. </p><p>The droid seemed to regain its composure, though it ran through its script impatiently, “My esteemed master Jakarro is a specialist in discreet cargo delivery.”</p><p>Eva’s lips quirked.  “Smuggler.  Very nice way of putting it – I’ll have to use that next time I meet someone’s parents.” </p><p>The droid barreled on, “I’m his translator C2-D4, former servant of her imminence Queen Lina of –"</p><p>“No one cares, droid.  Get to the point,” Jakarro cut him off.</p><p>The droid, if he had any body to convey body language with, probably would have straightened up, shaking his shoulders slightly.  “Yes, well.  Jakarro was contracted by a Selkath geneticist, Gorima, to deliver certain medical equipment – perfectly legal – to this facility.”  As Theron predicted – not the legal claim, but certainly the delivery of goods.  “But once the delivery was made, payment was never rendered – instead, we were imprisoned and interrogated by two very unpleasant individuals.”</p><p>“A Pub soldier and an Imp Sith.  They asked us questions – whether we had told others about the job.  Insulting!”  Jakarro grumped. </p><p>A puzzle piece slide into place in Eva’s mind.  Possibly, they may have sought a smuggler outside of her sphere of influence – someone who didn’t know her or was not under her control, thus keeping the Voidhound and the SIS Agent out of play. </p><p>“<em>Assuming they were interested in her at all</em>,” nagged the rational part of her brain. The uncertainty was affecting her; that much she knew. </p><p>“Colonel Darok and Darth Arkous?” Eva offered to fill in the gaps.</p><p>“We were never introduced,” said the droid snippily.  “Very rude to be perfectly honest. After the interrogation they told Gorima to use us as fodder for some kind of experiments!”</p><p>“Yikes.  Not sure I want to know what they’d do with a Wookiee and… parts of a droid.  No offense.” </p><p>“Enough!  You are here for the Pub soldier, yes?” Jakarro interrupted, standing up near the boundaries of his prison.  “To punish his betrayal?  We were betrayed too – we can be allies.”</p><p>Bowdaar piped in quietly through her earpiece.  “No.  Male Wookiees don’t get along too well in close quarters.  Don’t adopt this one, too.”</p><p>As Eva held back a giggle, Theron piped into her other ear.  “Their stories check out – just did a little digging on these two.  Charges against them both for smuggling, disorderly conduct, assault –”</p><p>Eva stared at the remains of D4. “Even the droid?”</p><p>“Yeah, why do you ask?”</p><p>“Never mind.”  Theron would probably find out soon enough.</p><p>“Whatever they’ve done, my contact has a good feeling about them – thinks they might come in handy.  Let’s see if she’s right.”</p><p>Eva didn’t mention she’d likely free the pair anyway, regardless of what Theron ordered.  She didn’t let him or the odd couple in on this thought.  Eva looked toward the computer bay.  “All right.  We’re in this together.  But I will say I already have a Wookiee in my life, so don’t think you can charm your way into my ship.”</p><p>Jakarro scoffed.  “I have my own ship.”</p><p>Eva tilted her head.  “What model?”</p><p>“XS Light, of course.”</p><p>“Of course,” Eva grinned.  “Your ship’s still at the port, by the way; I’m the only other unregistered one in the lot.” </p><p>Jakarro grunted his approval.  “Some Wookiees find reward in service, as yours likely does.  I serve no one, especially this droid that does not know the meaning of respect.” </p><p>D4 mockingly flashed his eyes. “I’d bend the knee if I had one, your worshipfulness.”</p><p>“You don’t get that back until you tame that smart mouth.” </p><p>As the two continued to bicker, she released Jakarro and the droid from their prison.  Guss and Eva exchanged a look as their new allies continued to argue, standing in the now open prison cell. </p><p>Finally, Jakarro realized he’d been liberated.   “I will secure my weapons and meet you!  Revenge will be ours!”  In three swift bounds, he made it to the lab door, ripping Guss’ barricades off with ease. </p><p>Distantly, she heard D4 cry out “Thank you!”</p><p>“Seriously, Captain, I’m with Bowie on this one.  Don’t adopt them.  They’re too much, even for me.  And you know me.”  Guss started to move toward her.</p><p>“Six feet, please.  I know you.”  She held up a hand to ward him off as she moved through the lab toward the next hallway. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Little Shop of Horrors</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Gorima and his monstrosities are found.  Darok and Arkous recognize our intrepid hero.  Eva makes the acquaintance of one remarkably polite Sith Lord.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eva and Guss descended further into the facility. According to Theron, they were getting closer to the source of the Rakata technology readings, but there were no obvious signs of them yet.  Eva had sliced through several networks to open a backdoor for him, but nothing concrete had appeared before them. </p><p>Suddenly, a polite, pleasant female voice came through Eva’s earpiece.  “Greetings!  We haven’t met in person, but your associate asked me to contact you while he’s busy with his scanning equipment.”</p><p>“….hi.”  Eva’s brow furrowed and she stopped walking. </p><p>That was an Imperial voice.  She felt her face contort.  Something was up. </p><p>Guss looked over at her – six feet away.  “You smell something bad?”</p><p>Eva waved Guss off.  “What does he have so far?”</p><p>“Apparently, he’s picking up powerful energy readings from Gorima’s laboratory.  It’s right ahead of you. Readings are consistent with Rakata technology.”</p><p>Eva gestured for Guss to check the corner ahead.  “How powerful?  Planet destroyer?”</p><p>A clipped laugh.  “Nothing of that sort.”</p><p>Eva waited.  There was an awkward silence, and nothing else was forthcoming.  “Ok, so can it power a blender? A starship?  What does ‘powerful’ mean in this context?”</p><p>There was a brief shuffle on the other end of the line.  Theron’s voice came through, and Eva found herself relieved to hear him.  Then she realized what he said:  “I’d say Czerka-style zombies.”</p><p>“Really?  Plural?  Dammit.” Eva bounced on the balls of her feet uneasily. </p><p>“I draw my line at one zombie, Captain.  I’ll be putting in for hazard pay now,” Guss informed her, in all seriousness.</p><p>Eva  made a sour face in response to this entire ridiculous situation involving Imps, the plague, zombies, and Guss. </p><p>“I don’t know about zombies…” the Imp offered hesitantly.  “But Theron and I agree that this a dangerous sign. Whatever is going on in that lab, please do your best to stop it.”</p><p>“I’ll take a shot at it.  Captain out.”  Eva killed the comm.  At least the Imp was unfailingly polite.  Eva raised the hood on her coat and unholstered both of her blasters.   “You ready?”</p><p>“Never, but that hasn’t stopped you in the past.”  Guss grabbed his blaster and med pack.  “Let’s go anyway.”</p><p>The human and the Mon Cal slinked down the hall, hugging the wall, Guss trailing the mandated six feet.  Eva cautiously crouched down, sighted the security cam, and neatly shot it out.  She checked for any back-up measures, then crept across the floor to the lab door, the motion detector letting the entry hiss open.    She squatted in the entryway, still, waiting.  No immediate noise or response.  She slowly rose to her feet and walked in, eyes forward and alert.  She was immediately cast into shadow, as all of the room’s lights were directed toward a central operating theatre.</p><p>In the middle of the room, far from her at the moment, was a Selkath, performing some sort of medical procedure on another at an exam table.  She heard shuffling as Guss followed her in, then the door closing behind them. </p><p>Eva drew nearer, and she could see clearly that the medical test subject was dead.  Its jerky motions were stimuli responses – either provoked by the machinery it had been hooked up to or the final echoes of a dead brain in an artificially sustained body. </p><p>Eva had dealt with enough fresh kills to know they’d missed intervention by minutes.  However, live or dead, the subject would be useful if Gorima were indeed playing with Rakata technology. </p><p>“Are you Gorima?” she called out from the shadows, using the lower register of the Voidhound’s voice.    </p><p>“I am, and I’m never going to finish with so many interruptions!  Go back to Darok and tell him to stop pestering me!”  The scientist did not look up from the corpse he labored over.</p><p>Eva audibly removed the safety from her right blaster – a purposeful action.  “You need to stop what you’re doing and answer my questions.”</p><p>Gorima’s hands stilled.  “Then you aren’t one of Darok’s people.  An intruder.”  The Selkath stepped away from the corpse, hands raised.  “What do you want from me?”</p><p>Eva remained in shadow.  “I want to know what Darok and Arkous are planning.  What are you doing here?”</p><p>Gorima hesitated.</p><p>Eva removed the safety from her left blaster.  No words. </p><p>Gorima found his tongue.  “Creating an army. Or at least, the first recruits. Rakata technology is self-repairing. Quite marvelous to observe, though quite fatal when implanted into live hosts without my special treatment process,” he explained. “I’ve perfected it.”  He cast a disdainful look down at the dead body before him.  “Almost.”  Gorima looked back out into the darkness, trying to catch sight of the source of the voice.  Eva made sure he could not detect her so easily, lurking on the other side of a machine.  “The ones already dead are easy to control and command, but live hosts – they retain their intellect, their executive function. We may have mindless drones, but we need a chain of command.”</p><p>Eva swallowed hard, keeping silent. <em>Smart </em>zombies.  Not good. </p><p>“Once the implants are accepted by the host tissues, they work in unison. Enhancing strength, repairing damage, the perfect soldiers.”</p><p><em>Self-repairing</em> smart zombies.  Definitely not good. </p><p>Eva saw a flash in the shadows across the room from her.  She drew back further until she realized it was the fully enraged Wookiee smuggler.  “There you are!  Time to learn the cost for crossing Jakarro, eel!”  He pulled his bowcaster and aimed it directly at Gorima.</p><p>Gorima completely lost his composure and quailed in his boots.  “Please, it was nothing personal! You have to understand—you’re such an impressive specimen!  You would have been my first Wookiee super soldier.”</p><p>Jakarro absorbed the compliments and hesitated.  He cast a side-wise glance into the shadows –</p><p>Ah.  Two hunters on the same quarry, and she had been deemed deserving of input on the quarry’s fate. </p><p>D4 had no such scruples.  “What are you waiting for?  Do it!  Before he has a chance to betray us again!”</p><p>Eva watched Gorima for another few moments, complete terror exuding from him.  Distantly, in her mind, she wondered how many Selkath were missing from Manaan.  How many tourists or transients, smugglers or legitimate kolto dealers had gone missing.</p><p>How long did it take to perfect a process that made smart, self-repairing zombies?  How many tries?</p><p>“I don’t stand between a Wookiee and a quarrel.” </p><p>At her word, Jakarro squeezed the trigger, and Gorima fell to the floor, as lifeless as his test subject, which still lay on the table, occasionally twitching.   Eva heard Jakarro’s satisfied rumble. </p><p>If Theron wanted Gorima alive, he should have said so. </p><p>Suddenly, all of the lights came on in the lab, the harsh light making her squint.  She heard Guss behind her.  “Ow, bright.” </p><p>A familiar voice made an observation, “Well, that explains the dead guards.”</p><p>A less familiar, but still recognizable voice agreed. “I knew I sensed someone familiar.”</p><p>From under her hood, Eva blinked several times to try to adjust her eyes to the light and to see, precisely, where the voices were coming from. </p><p>As she gained her bearings, the voices continued to speak.  “I told you to let it go. You did your part – none of this concerns you,” Darok chided her.  “Should have taken the credits and melted the medal down, girl.” </p><p>“The medal isn’t worth much – it’s shiny but by no means precious.  No wonder you were so eager to give it away.”</p><p>Darok gave her a dark smirk.  “The Republic has to cut the budget somewhere.”</p><p>At last, Eva was able to raise her eyes to see the distant figures of Darok and Arkous, beyond a shielded partition.   “What is this all about?  Why are you doing this?”  She pointed with an open palm to the dead subject on the medical table. </p><p>“To save the galaxy.”  At that moment, Darok’s face took on a strange expression – the same strange expression he wore as he spoke of the data collection she had retrieved.  Some sort of reverence, some sort of sacredness associated with that mission and the material recovered – in secret and in full view of Eva and Theron. </p><p>Arkous seemed less affected by the prospect of saving the galaxy and more amused at the Selkath-shaped smear on the floor.  “I see you killed poor Gorima.  Too bad.  He would have enjoyed seeing us put the first of our Infinite Army to work.  I would have let him keep the prototypes for his own amusement.”</p><p>With that, the two disappeared behind a metallic door. </p><p>Guss muttered behind her.  “First things on the ‘we’re blowing this up before we’re leaving’ list.” </p><p>“Agreed.” </p><p>“I’ll help,” Jakarro said, with obvious distaste. </p><p>“We’re working for the good for the entire galaxy – the Republic, the Empire, everyone. We can’t let you interfere,” Darok said over an intercom that was piped into the laboratory. </p><p>There was a moment of silence before the facility gave a great and terrible shudder, knocking Eva off her feet.  As they were plunged into darkness, she felt the floor tilt and then a splatter of water.  She regained her footing and reaching into the darkness.  “Guss!” </p><p>She made contact with his coat first.  “Six feet, boss.”</p><p>“We’ve got more problems than plague,” she yelped as she felt a cold wave of water rush over her boots and hit her trousers.  She yanked on Guss to get him out of the water as she saw a bolt of electricity arc over their heads. </p><p>Obnoxiously, Darth Arkous spoke over the din of the groaning infrastructure. “Feel free to die before the facility reaches crush depth. It will probably be more comfortable that way.”</p><p>“No, thanks.  Captain to Intel, I need a path out of here.”  She turned to where the Wookiee and droid had been standing. In the dimness, she could see him, crouched.  “You coming or what?”</p><p>“Yes, I am – don’t be stupid.” D4 wasn’t chastising her but rather, Jakarro.  “If you didn’t catch it earlier, she is like us.” </p><p>“Not going to turn us into Pub authority?” Jakarro asked warily. </p><p>Eva seriously did not have time for this.  “You can come along or you can drown here.  Me personally, I believe in living to smuggle another day.”  She pressed her earpiece, sending an urgent signal.  “I need an answer now.”</p><p>The Imperial woman’s voice answered, “Hello again. I’m afraid that all of the emergency pods have been ejected, and all hatches leading back to the facility entrance all sealed.  Fortunately, I ‘procured’ a small watercraft for just this eventuality. The autopilot should have it docked at a hatch near your location shortly. Please hurry.”</p><p>“Aye.”  Eva turned to Jakarro.  “We’re leaving.  Follow if you want.”</p><p>With that, Eva grabbed Guss by the arm and marched him out of the laboratory, through a set of half-broken doors..  “Are you seriously leaving them?” Guss asked.</p><p>“I’m getting you and me out of here.  That’s all I care about right now – people make their choices.” </p><p>The chill was piercing as Eva and Guss waded through knee-deep water. A pipe burst over their heads, sending a shower of ice-cold water down upon Eva’s head.  She felt her chest seize with the shocking contact and an instinctive gasp went up.  As she shook it off, Theron murmured in her ear. “You ok?” </p><p>“Cold, slightly wet, and terrified.  Pretty good, considering.” </p><p>She heard him take a deep breath on the other end of the line.  “You’re almost out. I—”</p><p> “Apologies, but the remote docking procedure isn’t quite finished,” the Imperial woman cut in.  “Could you get to the nearest computer console and permit Theron to slice in?  I want to speed this along.”</p><p>“Aye.”  Eva took a hard left into a large laboratory, and the automated doors not only let them in but a small wave of water as well.  “Guss, you got a light?”  She couldn’t work with only the lights of the computer monitor.</p><p>Silently, Guss produced a med kit light.  She heard his teeth chatter in the cold.  “I know, buddy.  You and I both need a hot drink and a nap after this one.” </p><p>“Hazard pay.”</p><p>“Yeah, that too.” She gave in on that count.  She pulled out her omnitool  -- the computer appeared particularly well-secured. </p><p>Suddenly, there was a metal groan from the far side of the room, and a reinforced door rattled.  “Uh….that’s not the Wookiee,” Guss whispered loudly. </p><p>“Captain!”   The woman’s voice was noticeably alarmed.  “Their cyborg champion is after you. I can sense its power from here … it’s considerable.”</p><p>Guss stared at the metal door that was slowly being hammered inward by something very, very angry.  “You don’t need the Force to know that.” </p><p>At that moment, there was a crash of glass from the opposite direction.  Eva craned her head over her shoulder to see a now-known silhouette pounding toward her.  “Jakarro, have I got an opportunity for you.”  She pointed at the battered door with one hand as she rapped the knuckles of the other on the computer.  “I’ll hack this, but it’s going to take some time.</p><p>Jakarro looked down.  “That is an old tool,” he said. </p><p>“You got anything better?” Eva asked archly.</p><p>Jakarro pulled out his omnitool – same model.  “Ain’t broke, don’t fix.”</p><p>An unearthly shriek erupted as a massive Selkath ripped the metal door into pieces.  Eva saw blue flicker of light around it.  “Can you get a scan of this…thing? It has some sort of force field?”</p><p>“It’s heavily shielded, and the generator has been installed into its body,” the Imperial woman replied.  “Your time is short – be merciless.”</p><p>“She’s way too excited about us having to kill this thing,” Guss grumbled. </p><p>“Have you seen the weather up there?  Totally dreary day.”  Eva checked her blasters over. “We’re Shiv Skyrunner today, and they’re the kids watching holos.”</p><p>“Starrunner,” Guss corrected her as he checked his medpack one last time.  “But yeah, this is the sort of thing he would do – fight the big baddie, save the girl, make friends…”</p><p>Eva flipped her safeties off.  “Let’s light him up.”  Jakarro grunted in satisfaction. </p><p>“Master, please stay at a maximum range distance—"</p><p>**</p><p>The only thing worse than being cold and wet was being sweaty, cold, and wet.  Even with the Imperial complimenting her combat skills, Eva was not feeling terrific as she leaned up against the console.  “Captain to ship, activate my bio reader.  How’s Guss doing?”</p><p>“Ship here.  Your oxygen levels are a little low.  Guss seems fine … well, minus the thing we’re waiting on,” Risha informed her. </p><p>Eva distractedly nodded.  She watched her omnitool still whirring away happily.  “C’mon.  Did you take a smoke break or something?” she whined at it. </p><p>“In its defense, you managed to find the most secured lab – this was Gorima’s repository; what you found earlier was his operating theatre.  This is where all the lab reports and results ultimately went.”  Theron’s fingers sounded like they were flying across his console.  “If the slice is successful, we’ll be able to do more than just get you out of here.”</p><p>Eva quietly gave the little omnitool a pat. “It’ll be successful.” </p><p>The Imperial woman commented, “I will say, Theron did say you were tough.  I’m impressed, given certain inadequacies.”</p><p>Eva looked at the console as if it had bit her.  “Excuse me?” </p><p>The omnitool clicked at that moment.   At last, an image flickered into view from the Intel end of things.  </p><p>“Sith.  Sith. Sith,” Guss stammered out. </p><p>“But not your enemy.  Not today.” </p><p>Eva gave the holo image a cursory glance – lightsaber, yup.  There was something strange with the eyes, something she’d seen with supposed Dark-Siders.  She never bought in to the Force thing.  The woman was tall, blonde, and solemn. “Yeah.  I’m not the sort of shyster that’s into hand-waving and hokey religions, if you mean that sort of inadequacy.”</p><p>There was a noise from Theron that suspiciously sounded like a choked laugh, but he cleared his throat. </p><p>“Are you still interested in a ride back or would you prefer to swim?” she offered.</p><p>“I like being alive.  Guss will get over his disappointment.”</p><p>“Story of my life.” </p><p>The Imperial took this with some good humor.  “I do appreciate a pragmatic mind.” After a few more moments of typing.  Eva heard a distant drone.  “There we are. Your transport is ready – safe travels.”</p><p>As the image flickered out, another door swung open.  The three survivors swept down a flooding hallway, lit only by emergency lights.  At last, at its end, was small docking bay with a single watercraft, waiting for them. </p><p>“Everybody in.  Guss, you better hold onto your stomach.”  Eva popped the hatch and motioned Guss to climb in.  Jakarro stooped to squeeze in, but he successfully made it. As Eva managed to find space to plant her feet inside the transport, red lights inside of the watercraft went off.  “Oh, not good.”  Eva pulled out her comm device and stepped out of the craft. “Captain to Intel. What do red lights mean on the watercraft?”</p><p>After a shuffle, the woman’s voice came through again.  “It means you’re over the weight limit.  I confess, it is only meant for two people.” </p><p>Eva cut the comm momentarily.  “Goddammit, payday.”  She stomped her foot in frustration on the dock.  Guss groaned and started to unbutton his coat.  Eva motioned to him to cease, and she reactivated the commlink.  “How far over are we?”  She planted both feet inside the craft, and the lights glowed red again.</p><p>“About 55 to 60 kilos over.” </p><p>Guss turned to Jakarro.  “Ok, Fuzzy, out you go.  My captain gets in here – you were a surprise.”</p><p>Jakarro yelled at him.  “I am a captain too – you can get off and swim up, you fish.” </p><p>Guss and Jakarro glared at each other for a second.  Then together: “The droid!”</p><p>“Oh no!  I do <em>not </em>weigh that much, even with my arm and leg on your back.  It won’t make a difference whether I’m on or not.”</p><p>“D4 is right,” Eva interrupted the argument.  Eva cut comms again for a second.  “It’s also too much that ditching our coats won’t make a difference either.” </p><p>Jakarro eyed Eva and Guss.  “Nice coats.  I want one.  How much are you carrying?”</p><p>“Enough for a run to the Mid Rim, but not enough to change the weight limit on this craft.”  Eva jumped out.  “Safe travels, as the lady said.” </p><p>Before either sentient could argue, Eva slammed the pod shut, and it immediately self-launched down a long acceleration pipe.  She opened the comms one more time.  “One agitated Wookiee, a bad-tempered droid, and a sick Mon Cal coming your way.” </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. The Door Closes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Hey, you’re supposed to be on that,” Theron’s voice cut through, irritated.</p><p>Eva stalked back up the dock and shuddered as the cold pierced her as she waded through the sinking complex.  “I’m the weight of overage.  Even if we all stripped and ditched the droid, we’d still be overweight, and I’m not going to get us all killed.  Both Guss and Jakarro are heavier than I am, so I’m the one most likely to find an alternative way up without worrying about weight restrictions.  If you two have any bright ideas, now’s the time.”</p><p>“Logical,” the Sith said. </p><p>“Not when she’s the main asset,” Theron said through grit teeth. </p><p>Eva opened up the comm to her ship.  “Captain to ship.  Guss is on his way up.  I’m still down here. I need ideas on how to escape a sinking facility before drowning or being crushed.”  She broke into a run back toward the last laboratory – maybe something in there? </p><p>Corso’s voice rang through first.  “Captain, you are the only person I know to turn down a perfectly good rescue.” </p><p>“She thinks she’s going to live forever.”  Eva could hear Akaavi’s eyes rolling from the depths of the ocean. </p><p>“Probably more like fifteen minutes, if I’m generous,” Risha stated.  “Your oxygen saturation is down; the air quality down there is poor and getting worse.  Add suffocation to that ‘causes of death’ list.” </p><p>Bowdaar groaned over the comm.  Eva pressed her right hand to her earpiece.  “Oh, don’t be so dramatic, Bowie.  I’ll be back in time for supper.” </p><p>As she jogged toward the research computer console, she realized Risha was right – her breathing was heavier, less satisfying.  “Speaking of supper, I should mention Guss ate some plague samples or egg salad, for those of you not listening in earlier.  So give the guy some distance, don’t feed him anything, and quarantine him as soon as he comes up.”</p><p>“He ate <em>what</em>?” Theron asked incredulously. </p><p>“And you sent him back up to us?  Cap, I don’t know whether you’re selfish or selfless,” Corso groaned.</p><p>“Kind of a foggy line, yeah,” Eva said breathlessly.  Her hands flew across the console.  There had to be <em>something </em>that went to the surface.  Think outside the box. </p><p>The cool, calm voice of the Sith gently offered, “I could instruct you in some breathing exercises to limit your panic.”</p><p>Eva was literally dying to launch a smart retort, but that would waste air.  Not worth it.</p><p>Risha’s voice was unexpectedly harsh.  “She can’t help the breathing.  The oxygen saturation is way down.  You don’t have fifteen minutes.”</p><p>Akaavi grumbled, “I can’t believe you sent that bioterrorist up here.  He is weak and undeserving in trade for your life.  Such a waste.”</p><p>Eva barked out a laugh. </p><p>“Don’t spend your air, Captain,” Theron said.  She could hear him literally pounding on the computer terminal. </p><p>Waste.  Waste disposal.  Waste disposal in a laboratory that depended on clean environments.  How?  Eva’s mind raced.   “Theron, what does the lab do with its trash?  They don’t just sink it down here, do they?” </p><p>“No, it would damage the kolto.”   The noise on Theron’s end stopped for a moment.  “Let me work on something.” </p><p>Eva steadied herself against the console.  Dizzy.  Somewhere, the atmosphere was already punctured – water replacing the air, the machines still operating, still producing exhaust. </p><p>They had to have respirators down here.  Air tanks, something.  Eva made her way over toward the wall, eyes roaming its surface for – aha.  She could hear Theron mutter, “come on, come on, come on.”   Eva turned around, braced her left arm with her right, and swung her left elbow straight back into the safety glass that surrounded an emergency oxygen mask.  As she slid it on over her face, the alarm continued to ring out in its piercing regularity. </p><p>The water lapped at against her boots.  They were water-tight, but the chill imparted by the water began to set in around her, plus she’d already been splashed. “This thing has to have a tailpipe.  Where is it?” she asked.  “And I found an oxygen mask, before you start, Rish.”  She heard a peeved noise over her comm.</p><p>Finally, she heard Theron exclaim, “Got it! Back out to the hallway, open the maintenance hatch.  You’re not far. Load yourself into a refuse disposal tube, I’ll jettison it from here. I’ll try to direct toward the submarine pens, but this wasn’t meant to be a precision firing system.” </p><p>“We can track it from up here – wherever you pop up, we got you.”  She could hear Corso swap seats with Risha as the automated flight checks went through their warm-up sequence. </p><p> “Your o-sat is looking better,” Risha remarked. “Into the garbage chute, flygirl – we’ll see you when you get up here.” </p><p>“Get moving, Captain,” Theron urged her. </p><p>She did not have to be told twice.   </p><p>**</p><p>Another round of rain was kicking up as Theron exited out of the office complex and headed toward the submarine pen.  Eva should be arriving shortly, then Guss and Jakarro.  The waste disposal system had been designed for biomedical waste, so each tube was pressurized during transit and sterilized after use to reduce the risk anything untoward happening during the surfacing and unloading process.  This kept the contents stable and the workers safe; Eva wouldn’t have a smooth ride, but she wouldn’t be crushed or infected with something on the way up.</p><p>Eva had scared Theron.  There was no hedging around that.  He’d felt his heart hit his boots when she launched that pod without herself on it. She saved her crew member, to whom she was obligated.  She rescued Jakarro, as requested.  It was something he would have done. He had done it in the past. </p><p>Theron did not like it when she did it.  It generated the same feeling he had as Ivory struck at her.  Feelings were not his friend right now (not that they ever had a fully functional relationship). They made him want to do impulsive things when he saw her again.  These things were not appropriate.  They were packed away with the whiskey euphoria and the panorama of images from a night now months old.  He had even managed to force a morning over coffee behind that locked door.  Knowing what Captain Corolastor wanted was good intelligence gathering.  The emotions and temptations that came with that encounter had to be contained and bolted for their safety.  (His and hers?  His feelings’ safety?)</p><p>But every time Theron saw her – the real her – it was as if a lockpick had been put to that door and gently opened it without him being fully aware of it until it was too late. </p><p>Now he was standing out in the rain, waiting for Eva to arrive safely from her latest death-defying escape.  He felt her fingers in his hair long before she arrived. </p><p>“Ship to Theron, come in.”  Theron managed to pick out Corso’s voice as the wind started to screech around the buildings.  “She’s coming up now.  A little fast for my liking – don’t want her getting the bends.  Any sign of Guss?”</p><p>Theron thumbed his implants to check the tracker of the watercraft that had been provided.  “He should be up about seven minutes after her.  That Wookiee is going to be in a great mood, I’m sure.” </p><p>“How would you like being trapped with Guss for 30 minutes with no filter?” Bowdaar reminded him.  “You survive that, then you can judge.” </p><p>The water stirred as a plain, black tube gradually surfaced.  “Breaking her out.   We’ll be in contact shortly.”  Theron turned off all comms as he briskly walked to the water’s edge and keyed the release code for the refuse tube. </p><p>The door slid open.  She was alive.  Theron saw Eva’s dark eyes wince at the light, a hand coming up involuntarily for a second to block out Manaan’s dim sun.  Then it set to work at removing the oxygen mask, which had outlived its usefulness.  She wrenched it from her face, taking a deep breath. </p><p>“What is this adverse relationship between you and breathing?”  Theron stood on the docks, looking down at her. </p><p>It took a moment for the joke to register, but when it did, he was rewarded with her raspy, exhausted laughter.  She leaned her head back, lying still minus the shaking of her shoulders.  Then the minx said, as she sat up, “You leave me breathless, Agent Shan.  Now help me out of this garbage can.”  Theron felt a hot rush through his veins, and he silently cursed her, not meaning a word of it.  Up came both of her hands toward him, and he grasped them. </p><p>Good gods, she was noticeably heavier than when he’d last encountered her.  She didn’t look…<em>oh.  </em>Theron picked up on the cause. Her coat seemed more voluminous than it did earlier, at least to his trained eye.  He’d say about 10 kilos more than usual.  Assuming Guss could do about 15 kilos, ditching the coats and the droid wouldn’t have mattered. She’d probably calculated that too.</p><p>As these thoughts raced through his head, Theron hooked his boot heel just inside the lip of the tube to steady it and then pull her up toward him.  Easily, she came to her feet, one at a time, drawing herself upright as he lifted her clear of the unstable vessel. </p><p>Theron heard her boots touch down on the metal dock, and he drew his foot back to let the refuse tube float away from the dock.  “Glad to see you made it back in one piece.”   He gave her a smile, which she received with good grace, the lively spark in her eyes.  Slightly colder and more damp than this morning, but no worse for wear – oh, he was still holding her hands, wrapped in slightly sodden gloves.  He released them carefully.  “Gravity appears to be weighing on you more than when I saw you this morning.”</p><p>Eva squared up to him with mischief written all over her face.  “I meant to ask.  What’s the legal term for someone who helps another commit a crime without knowing it?”</p><p>“Unwitting accomplice,” he returned her volley.</p><p>“Yeah, that.  Let’s keep it that way.”  Eva primly turned on her heel to look out at the endless sea. </p><p>Theron smirked. “I’ll file it under ‘e’ for extracurricular.”  She nodded, not looking back at him.  He could see the flirtatiousness fading as she waited for the rescue craft to bob up.  “They’re coming,” he reassured her. </p><p>She stared for a while longer.  Then she turned her deep eyes upon him, all good humor gone.   “You should know Guss sensed three men paying close attention to me before I entered the lab.  He couldn’t tell if they just thought I was hot or if they had bad intent.  Now that I know a Sith is here --” </p><p>Theron felt the smile dissolve from his face.  “I’ll introduce you two when you get inside.  She is worthy of some trust.” Eva looked at him skeptically as he glanced back at the building. “However, if those were not her henchmen – if they were henchmen -- , then we have a bigger problem.”</p><p>Eva blew a breath of air out, loudly. “It got worse.  How did it get worse?” she asked the ocean.</p><p>Then, her comm link buzzed.  “Ship to Captain, status?” came Akaavi’s voice.</p><p>“I’m appreciating the shiny metal docks at the moment.  What’s the story with Guss?” </p><p>“He’s stuck.  And he’s telling us all about it,” Akaavi reported.  “He’s not wrong.  It looks like the propulsion system gave out about 8 meters below the surface.” </p><p>“He’s a Mon Cal, he can swim – you can tell him that.”   Eva stopped.  “Ah, hell –”</p><p>At the same time, Theron, Akaavi, and Eva said, “Jakarro.” </p><p>Akaavi continued, “He’s made his displeasure known.  He and I have bonded over mutual interests, however; I would be regretful if he died in the same manner as that leech.”</p><p>“I can guess what those ‘mutual interests’ are,” muttered Eva.  “Can you fly the <em>Thief </em>over to where he’s stuck – no, pick me up, then fly over.  We haven’t used the winch in ages.  We’ll retrieve them and then debrief.  Captain out.” </p><p>Eva turned toward Theron.  “Thanks for the extraction.  I know it didn’t go to plan, but I – I couldn’t leave them.”   She wasn’t apologizing.  She was explaining why his op didn’t go perfectly. </p><p>“I get it.”  Theron cleared his throat, and he put his hands on his hips.  He looked down at the dock for a moment before looking her in the eyes.  “Darok and Arkous know you’re in this now, if they didn’t think of it before.”</p><p>Eva ran a hand through her hair, sweeping back strands that had come loose from their bonds.  “That’s been my feeling for two months.  I don’t have any proof, but… my instinct is that information got somewhere.  Or that Darok never forgot me in the first place.” </p><p>Theron dipped his chin slightly in acknowledgement.  “They still may not see you as anything more than a stooge.  Darok knows better, but he’s arrogant enough to think it anyway.”  Theron exhaled before continuing.  “What I’m saying is that you still may not be on the radar as anything more than my useful tool.  And it’s more effective to sever the hand than strike at the tool.”</p><p>She swallowed and frowned, catching his meaning. Theron’s face softened at her apparent concern for him. “I’m still in.  Don’t doubt that.”  She cast a glance over the ocean again before turning to Theron again.  “You know, though, I haven’t had drink in two months.”</p><p>“…Congratulations?”  Theron wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say to that.</p><p>She stifled a laugh.  “Not really.”  Eva gave a half-shrug.  “I drink when I’m happy.  And it’s not ‘I’m happy when I drink.’  There’s a difference.  And I haven’t been happy, so I have not been drinking.”   She crossed her arms as the wind kicked up. </p><p>Theron wasn’t sure where this was going.  He regarded her with considerable caution. “What’s causing that?” he asked hesitantly.</p><p>“I’ve been on the run before.  Then, I knew that someone wanted me, for sure.  I can live with that. I can live with fighting a war for something.  For two months – since the Port Nowhere gig -- it’s been ‘are they or aren’t they?’”  Her attention was taken by the ocean again.  “The uncertainty is the problem, not the danger; I’d be happier if the question was ‘when will it happen’ rather than “if it happens, then what.’  I can’t be at high alert forever.”</p><p>Theron wasn’t a dunce.  He <em>knew</em> that there were multiple meanings in her words. “When any organization is on high alert for too long with no actual forward motion or resolution, that’s when it starts screwing up, making bad decisions.”   Theron followed her gaze and he could see the <em>Thief</em> coming in low.  “And that affects…”</p><p>Just because the meaning was obscured didn’t make it less true -- in either case.  He didn’t finish the sentence.  Instead, they watched as the <em>Thief </em>crept closer to them. </p><p>Theron made a choice. </p><p>Theron put a hand on her shoulder.  She looked back at him, eyes inquiring.  “I’ll see you at the debrief, once you extract Guss and Jakarro.”  He paused for a moment, before slyly adding, “Leave the coat on the ship.  Both coats.”</p><p>A small grin appeared as she quietly nodded in acquiescence.  Bowdaar threw down a rope ladder from the top hatch and called for her to climb up.  As she did so, Theron returned inside.  He heard a squawk and turned as the clear glass door slid closed.  Apparently, Bowdaar had grown impatient and had picked her up while she was still a few rungs down, hauling her up with ease in a bear hug.  Her nagging and demands to be put down were half-hearted; she allowed him to fuss right back at her, chastising her over how dangerous that was. </p><p>On his way back to the office, he looked out the window as he walked.  The <em>Thief’s</em> gang plank was partly down, and a winch mechanism was in the process of being lowered. In the background, he could see the boots of Corso and Risha rushing around, getting ready. Just as he was about to enter the office, a pair of furry feet and then Eva’s boots crossed the line of vision.  He saw Risha’s feet rush toward hers, but then halt as the hem of Eva’s coat soared across the gangplank toward Corso’s boots.  The coat was caught, but not without some fumbling.  Theron swore he heard Corso’s exclamation of surprise, even through the glass.  Then he saw Eva’s feet move the rest of the way toward her best friend. </p><p>She was going to be fine.</p><p>Theron disappeared into the office complex. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Nigredo</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Here is the darkest time, the time of despair, disillusionment, envious attacks; the time when Eros and Superego are at daggers drawn, and there seems no way forward. This, in alchemical treatises, is nigredo, the blackening. -- Carl Jung</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I post this as a reward to myself for getting work done (despite having no schedule or sense of days anymore; dark nights of the soul all around).  I'll cop to the fact I have an eclectic bookshelf.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“The official diagnosis is egg salad” were the first words out of Eva’s mouth as she arrived back in the office with Theron and the Imperial Woman.  She’d ditched her profits at the ship and wrapped herself up in a favored bulky sweater and a different overcoat.  She also wore the Voidhound’s card game face: a polite but disinterested observer with flat eyes and a limited, controlled spectrum of emotions.  She gave Jakarro a nudge as she walked in.</p><p>They’d successfully saved the watercraft and extracted all parties without bloodshed.  Jakarro was more than eager to leave, not permitting the gangplank to be raised.  Instead he demanded to be dropped on the closest solid surface <em>immediately</em>. </p><p>After that ordeal, no one blamed him. </p><p>Theron gave Eva and her entrance an exasperated look before turning back toward the Imperial.  “I just think it might put everyone at ease if you ditched the lightsaber.”  He gestured at her sidearm. </p><p>The blonde seemed amused.  “Is that really necessary?  Surely I’m not as intimidating as you imply?”  She appealed to Eva, who sat herself down in the chair previously occupied by Guss.</p><p>“After the day I’ve had, one snooty Sith Lord isn’t worth getting worked up about,” the smuggler replied as she kicked her feet up on the desk.  “Captain Eva Corolastor, on your retainer.” </p><p>The Sith was mildly surprised by the turn of phrase, but she seemed to find it humorous.  “I take back my comment on inadequacy.  You are clever and rather durable.”  Eva gave a curt nod, but she continued to watch the woman, carefully.  “You see, Theron?  We’ll get on just fine.” </p><p>Theron gave up.  He dramatically gestured toward the woman.  “Lana Beniko, dedicated Imperial citizen and fully armed Sith Lord.”</p><p>Lana raised a finger. “But you don’t need to worry about that.”</p><p>Theron slid Eva a datapad as he spoke.  “Arkous manipulated her and her people, same as Darok did to us.  She’s already shared a lot of good intel.  Based on your work in the lab, we know that Arkous and Darok are working together, manipulating both sides for some third party.”</p><p>Lana took up the charge of conveying information. “They’re Revanites.  Members of the Order of Revan.”</p><p>Eva knew that name. </p><p>Filed under VAT (Very Awful Thing). </p><p>She needed to speak with Risha.</p><p>**</p><p> “-- a secretive cult that’s had its claws in the Empire for many years. It seems they’ve pierced the Republic as well.”</p><p>“Tell me more about the cultists.” Eva interlaced her fingers, listening, as her eyes drifted between the datapad and Lana.  Theron could see she had flattened her affect and was carefully screening what she put out there in front of the Sith.</p><p>Good.</p><p>Lana wore mischievous smile.  “Well, Theron could tell you all about Revan, their object of devotion.”</p><p><em>Ugh.  </em>Theron knew she’d taken too much joy in that little revelation.  He hastily charged through it for Eva.  “He was a Jedi, then he was a Sith, then he was a Jedi again, all about three hundred years ago.  I’ll send you a history file.”  The cultists were easier to speak of.  “We know the Revanites have highly placed moles in both the Republic and the Empire. this means we have no idea who we can really trust.”</p><p>“So status quo for me,” Eva responded brightly.  “But I guess that does mean it’s up to us to stop them.”</p><p>Jakarro had had enough of this from his vantage point at the room’s edge.  “Droid, tell them this is boring and I don’t care about any of it.”  He growled down at the droid head.</p><p>“Uhhh. My master, the incomparable star captain Jakarro--”</p><p>Eva tilted back slightly in her chair to point to each half of the pair.  “Has a short attention span.  And this is what’s left of his translator, C2-D4 --</p><p>“Former interpreter for her imminence, Queen Lina of Onderon,” D4 finished with some pride.</p><p>Theron kept his own impatience under wraps.  Barely.  “Yeah, we got that earlier.  All of it.”  What was it with smugglers?</p><p>Jakarro stepped in toward Theron, shaking a claw at him.  “If you understand me, then understand this: the Pub and Imp left me to die twice. I won’t rest until I’ve tasted their blood.”</p><p>Lana inserted herself into the conversation, attempting to draw Jakarro’s ire.  “I saw your list of known accomplices earlier – quite impressive.”  Jakarro had his head turned by the admittedly pretty woman.  “Could any of them help us find where these traitors might be hiding?” </p><p>“Of course!”  From the corner of his eye, he could see Eva having a quiet laugh to herself.  He could guess what that was about:  Wookiees and pretty women.  “But I do the talking, understand?”</p><p>Lana was immensely pleased.  “Superb!  Then if Theron agrees?” She looked at him expectantly.</p><p>Theron gave a brisk nod. “Go ahead and get the ship prepped.  I’ll cover our tracks and catch up.”</p><p>“Very well.”  Turning to Eva.  “It’s been a pleasure meeting you. May the force ever serve you.”  Lana gave her a polite bow, and Eva gave her another curt nod. </p><p>As Jakarro passed, Eva whispered up toward him.  “We’ll talk shop next time.  I need resources on restoration.”</p><p>Jakarro grunted in the affirmative as he passed.</p><p>As the door hissed shut behind the pair, Eva and Theron were left alone in the room, Theron standing and Eva still reclining in an office chair with her feet up on the desk.   “Always nice to find a fellow XS pilot.  They’re good little ships.”  Eva stretched her arms over her head.  “Need a lift?”</p><p>Theron thought for a moment, the words on the dock still circulating. ….<em>knew that someone wanted me…..are they or aren’t they? ….. I’d be happier if</em> … <em>can’t be at high alert forever.</em></p><p>Tempting. “You better travel separately. If the Revanites put a tail on us, they can’t know which to follow.”</p><p>As her arms returned to her lap, she asked, “Should I lay low? If the Revanites realize their trap didn’t work, won’t that make things worse?  Or do you still think it’s not a guarantee that they’d come after me?”</p><p>Theron was already reconsidering his choice – the one that his job called for, the one he knew was ethically correct.  It was the original conclusion he’d reached in the command center:  not this asset.</p><p>
  <em>Need a lift?</em>
</p><p> “I think it’s better if they do see you.  They’d have to alter their plans to compensate, and that’s when they will make mistakes,” he said aloud, noting that she still had her defenses up from her encounter with Lana. </p><p>The voice was different, though, with less bravado and more concern.  “Theron, if some of Jakarro’s contacts have links to me or Voidfleet, let me know if they need a little encouragement.  Otherwise, don’t mention me at all; some smugs aren’t fans, and they’ll shoot you for invoking the Voidhound’s name.”   Her hands migrated to clasp behind her head as she looked up at him.</p><p>“Understood.” </p><p>They remained silent for a few moments.  Eva dropped her pazaak face.  Deep brown eyes met olive-gold, and there he went: every time she dropped her guard, it tried to drag his defenses down as well. Yes, he wanted to go with her on her ship, even if it was just back to Republic Fleet.  </p><p>Instead, in compliance with his previous decision, he gave her boots a nudge off the table.  “Guss didn’t steal anything, but I don’t want to pay too many cleaning fees,” he said with a little humor. Her feet gracefully were lowered to the floor in a slow, smooth movement as she sat up, not breaking eye contact, hands coming to rest on her knees. There was a question in her eyes that he did not answer.   “I’d better get moving.  Watch your back out there.” </p><p>He was out the door before she could say another word and before he would knuckle under.</p><p>**</p><p>And done.</p><p>They were out of Hutt space.  Eva switched <em>Virtue’s Thief </em>autopilot and got up to raid the galley for a late-night snack.  She was quiet and careful: she was running the ship dark, and it was indeed late by the ship’s time.  It had been a frantic two weeks, but they’d offloaded all the kolto in the target areas.  Eva had made it a point to hold back some of the military-grade stuff for the <em>Thief’s </em>medbay.  She didn’t know who would need it, but she did not want to be unprepared. </p><p>Eva still had not had a drink.  She’d also stopped sleeping successfully in her bed.  Now she was back to sleeping in her captain’s seat, something she’d done when she was young and frightened.  Now she was just old and surly.  Well, old for smuggler.  Surly for her was silent. </p><p>Bowdaar had noticed.  He didn’t try to engage her over caf in the morning.  He simply pushed an early breakfast at her and <em>watched her</em> eat it.  If she wasn’t going to sleep right, she could at least eat enough calories to keep her going nineteen, twenty hours a day instead of just sixteen. She understood his concern and appreciated the lack of lecture.  Bowie could see that she was worried for all of them – not just herself. </p><p>After Darok and Arkous had recognized her, Eva’s wandering thoughts about Theron Shan had shelved themselves.  They didn’t matter, comparatively, to the well-being of her crew.  His actions at the end of the briefing indicated a “no” response to what she said on the docks – if he caught the meaning in the first place.  That was another uncertainty that had initially annoyed her, but its relevance had faded, too.  Eva viewed it all as somewhat disappointing, after enjoying his company on the Port Nowhere venture.  Then again, any flirting or cooperation could have been a ploy to keep her for use in his ops – along with the small retainer of credits she received regularly from an SIS slush fund. </p><p>As long as the money kept coming, she’d keep answering Theron’s Holonet messages.  Such as the one that was waiting in her inbox.  She read it halfway through a serving of leftover of Kodari rice.  He wanted to give her an update on Jakarro’s intel, if she was nearby, at Republic Fleet. </p><p>She <em>could </em>be.  They were carrying a lot of in-kind payments that needed to be offloaded and resold.  Pub Fleet was an access point to the GTN.  The journey was doable from where they were, if he could spare the time late tomorrow afternoon.  Well, this afternoon, Eva amended as she caught sight of the chrono. </p><p>Eva rolled the idea around in her mind.  “Why not?”  she said aloud to the empty galley.  She threw the dirty dishes into the washer and went back to the cockpit to respond to the message.  She tagged a few additional entries for download from her logs – Belsavis – then grabbed a spare blanket from her quarters. </p><p>As she settled in for a suboptimal sleep cycle, Eva’s late night anxieties surrounded her and then surged as she attempted to wind down.  What did Darok and Arkous know of them, precisely?  Did they know the names of the crew?  Their records?  Was it just her?  Or did they have a line on the ship she didn’t know about – an ability to find it and track it?  How far would they go to prevent them/her/it from interfering?</p><p>Were they even on the radar at all?  Was it all just hollow threats?  Was the intimidation directed at these useful stooges while the real danger would strike at Theron? Or Lana Beniko, that very strange Sith?  How far would that go?  Neat and clean assassinations, or bombing of public transport? </p><p>How many VATs would come to light?  Risha had paled when Eva mentioned Revan’s name.  They’d have to wait and see whether it was pertinent to mention their connection.  But it was unlikely that their role in … everything… wouldn’t come to light. </p><p>Was it even her fight?  She did a job.  Bounty hunter guilds had rules about completing contracts, no questions asked.  Why was she asking questions?  Why couldn’t she just take the credits and walk away?  Why had she been so furious at the deception, even as the money poured into her accounts as she snarled? </p><p>Should she get out of this now?  Or hang in?  Dare she count on a fail-safe of a sworn “good man”? </p><p>
  <em>You’re awfully trusting, Captain.  A man helps you once, so you can trust him forever?</em>
</p><p>Out, Voidwolf. </p><p>But were they back to the bad old days again?  Would Voidfleet be blamed for this – any of this?  Would the Voidhound wear out her welcome and her exonerations? She wondered this even as her brain and her gut relaunched their uncivil war.</p><p>Eva did not drink because she would have to drown everything.  There was too much worry, too much doubt.  She had learned the hard way that she would poison herself before she scared everything away.  So she lived with it all, like an over-friendly guest that had followed her to bed. </p><p>The captain of <em>Virtue’s Thief</em> sat in the silent darkness, blanket wrapped up around her shoulders. She stared at the stars from her chair.  They did not stare back.  She was insignificant.  They were infinite. The one constant in the universe provided enough comfort to lull her into uneasy sleep.</p><p> </p><p>This is how it had been for nearly three months. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. A Prelude to Change</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In this short chapter, Captain Corolastor and Agent Shan meet at the Cantina, better business partners than ever.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eva appeared one minute before their schedule meeting time at the cantina in Republic Fleet.  She saw Theron seated at a table and descended the steps toward him. </p><p>“There you are,” he said, rising to his feet.  “How did your run to the Mid-Rim go?”</p><p>Eva’s brows arched, and she let a small grin cross her face.  “Very well.  How’d you hear of it?”</p><p>“Chatter.  Suddenly, a place that needs kolto has it, and nobody knows how to describe their friendly neighborhood smuggler.” Theron gave her a warm smile. </p><p>“Funny how that happens. How’s tricks on your end?”  Imagining Theron coping with a Wookiee with anger issues and a quirky Sith was a humorous image, but not one she wanted to see firsthand.</p><p>“Our first few interviews with Jakarro’s friends went well, believe it or not.  We’re going to start with some antique smugglers from the Exchange, see if the Revanites have gone for any other Rakata tech.”</p><p>Eva raised the hand with her wrist comm on it.  “Exchange are trash, first off.  Second – Belsavis.  Rakata tech was found out there, another world ending device.  Along with an ancient evil, by the way.”</p><p>Theron stared at her.  “You seem to have a knack for this stuff.”</p><p>“Tell me about it.  At least I have a good track record of blowing it up before greedy corporations or ancient races with a grudge use it to knock us back to the stone age.”  A few taps of her fingers, and the data was packaged over to Theron.  “I was offered immortality by this one.” </p><p>“Did you take it?” he jokingly asked.</p><p>“Would explain my longevity as a smuggler.”  Theron did a double-take as Eva smirked. </p><p>Theron’s hand went to his temple as he received the data.  “Thanks.  I have to admit, the more I read and see of the Rakata, the more concerned I am that there are <em>multiple</em> groups are pursuing this tech.”</p><p>Eva nodded.  “They tend to blow themselves up just enough to get someone’s attention, and then, for some reason, I get called in to take care of it.  This new group seems to have its act together…they’re making smart zombies.” </p><p>Theron sighed and shook his head.  “Yeah.”   He paused as he skimmed through some of her data, eyes darting back and forth as he read the file paging through his head. </p><p>“Well, I’m glad to see you’re still in one piece, given your most recent company.  It’s a good look for you.”  She let her voice slide into the lower half of her range, and she effectively yanked him out of his reading material. </p><p>“Then I’ll do my best to stay that way,” was the quick retort as he emerged from the data dump, refocusing his eyes on her.  “I should probably clue you in, since you make it a point <em>not</em> to deal with Jedi.”</p><p>“Or Sith,” Eva added.  “I don’t discriminate in my disdain for religious charlatans or card cheats.”</p><p>Theron sighed.  “I don’t have time for <em>that </em>discussion.  But I should explain Lana’s … enthusiasm for my connections to Revan.  Apparently, my family has even more pull than I thought, based on what Lana has told me about the Order of Revan’s activities in the Empire.”</p><p>Eva gave him a bemused look.  “You’re related to Revan?”</p><p>“Yeah, it’s an old story: Bastila Shan, Revan’s great Jedi love.  Kids took her name.  And that name made it all the way down to me, even if the Force didn’t.”</p><p>Yep, definitely can’t tell him about that Very Awful Thing.  Meanwhile,  Risha was going to have good hard laugh at her expense later.  Eva could just see that conversation:  <em>“So, you know the guy I’m 30/70 on shtupping?  I have to go kill cultists devoted to his grandpa.  That’ll totally win him over.”  </em>Gods, Akaavi was probably going to laugh at her too. Her taste in men was atrocious.</p><p>Theron apparently misinterpreted her sudden onset of dread and awkwardness for reluctance or frustration. He took a step in toward her and lowered his voice. “Look, Revan was a wild card, and his crazy cult of followers is bound to be the same,” he cautioned her.  “Highly trained bravado aside, we’re up against some long odds here.”</p><p>“I’m guessing this cult is more than just a few dozen….” Eva watched Theron’s face, which was clearly not prepared for a sabacc game at the moment.  “A few hundre---” Uh oh, he shook his head. “A few thousand?”  Theron let his hand tilt from side to side.  Eva let out a puff of breath.  “Ok then. New rule: Never tell me the odds.”</p><p>The corners of Theron’s mouth turned upward slightly, but only for a moment; the serious expression returned.  “Are you sure you still want to be dragged into all of this?”</p><p>It was easier to say no.  Cut the losses, give up the slush fund, and go back to doing whatever else there was to do in galaxy for bored people, like conquer Dubrillion for Risha.  However, Eva had particularly strong feelings about being conned and being manipulated into hurting others.  She did not take that well.  For someone who operated in shadow, she did prize truth.   Captain Corolastor was her own person long before an SIS agent sent his astromech to track her down. </p><p>“I’m not going anywhere, Theron.  You can count on that,” she replied, her voice low.  There were no hard edges to it.   “I don’t appreciate being played -- I’m sure you understand that.”   She wasn’t so naïve as to think he drew her name out of a hat and decided she looked like a good girl; he likely knew the entire ugliness of the Darmas situation and had been (to this point) too polite to bring it up. </p><p>Theron regarded her silently for a moment, his expression not readable.  “I will admit, teams aren’t my usual style.”</p><p>“I had thought SIS agents were paired, typically.  I was wondering where your other half was.”  Eva regretted her words immediately.  For all she knew, his partner had died in some horrific or tragic mission and she was a last-minute replacement.  Well, too late now.  The arrow had been nocked.</p><p>Fortunately, Theron was unbothered by the question.  “Although Director Trant has his own theories, my partners claimed they couldn’t keep up with me on assignments.  I tend to work better alone.”    </p><p>“How am I doing?” Eva asked, her tone far lighter than it had been. </p><p>Theron gave her his smile.  “Pretty good.  I could get used to this team.”  He checked his chrono.   “All right. I better get back to Lana and Jakarro before they…do anything.”  Both he and Eva had a chuckle – what an odd couple, but it apparently worked.  “I’ll get in touch as soon as we get something more concrete.  Stay safe.”</p><p>“You, too.”  They paused for a moment, then gave each other a nod.  Eva turned away, and she heard Theron do the same.</p><p>She did not look back.  On to the next thing.  Whatever it was – Risha probably had an idea. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. The Inevitable</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In a chapter featuring Corso and his Captain, change, disagreements, mistakes, and death are ultimately inevitable.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It turned out that Corso had the idea, and it was actually quite lucrative.  Dantooine was being seriously settled now by the Republic (though not officially), and it needed farm equipment.  It was a far cry from the desolate planet Risha had grown up on; even the graveyard where her parents lay had been livelier than the local cantina. </p><p>Eva had tracked down a few shipments in Voidfleet that were undeliverables – lack of money on the receiver’s end, lack of ship able to carry the cargo weight, or the machines had been incompatible with the planet they had been originally sent to and returned  – and loaded up the XS with them. </p><p>When she was doing the math for the load-bearing weight and waffling over whether she should leave off a tractor, Eva realized that undoing <em>Virtue’s Thief’s </em>retrofit would mean a reversion to far weaker engines.  At that revelation, she’s muttered, “Sithspit” and wavered in her hobby and its purist bent.   </p><p>That was just inconvenient.  Countertops and doorknobs were one thing; potentially losing money was distasteful, and Eva was fairly sure her mother would smite her if she did such a thing.  While Corso talked with the yokel locals, Eva disappeared into the gunner’s compartment with a copy of the XS manual, trying to think of a way to get authentic engines to crank out the necessary power. </p><p>There were some planets where she was the first woman out; there were others where she let someone culturally closer handle arrangements.  Corso was the man for the job on Dantooine, no doubt.  She was proud of him. During the heat of the day, she heard him get back on the ship.  Over the last five years, she had learned the sound of his boots, how his belt and chain clinked against each other, and exactly how he heaved off his pack. </p><p>Eva knew all of the typical sounds of her crew.  She could tell who had sneezed from across the ship.  But she knew Corso best.   </p><p>“Cap, what would you say if I bought some land?”</p><p>“You do what you want with your money,” she had replied. Corso had turned on the ship’s intercom, so Eva in the gunner’s compartment could hear him.  He couldn’t fit down there. </p><p>“Well, I want to know if it’s a good idea or a bad idea.”</p><p>Eva dog-eared the page she had been reading and closed the manual.  “Land is a good investment.  If you plan on settling, you’ll need everything these people are buying from us – I can give you the crew discount on that, you know that.”</p><p>Corso murmured a note of thanks.  The crew discount was absolute and all-inclusive.  Eva loved her misfits.</p><p>“But if you’re not aiming on settling here right away, it’s still good because the land prices will only go up – as long as the Republic follows through on its plans.  If it doesn’t work out – if you still want to goof off with us wastoids, then you can always sit on it and sell it.”  Eva peered out the window at the still-desolate farm lands that were slowly being brought back to life.  “What are you thinking, Corso?”</p><p>“Thinking of buying.  I don’t plan – no offense, but I didn’t plan on this being my life forever,” his voice came hesitantly down over the comm.</p><p>“I think I’m the only one who does,” Eva offered in return.  “So I’m the weird one on this ship.  For once.”</p><p>Corso laughed at that.  “But don’t you want to try a life you’ve never know?  You’ve been non-stop adventure all your life.  That’s being a smuggler. What’s going to happen when you can’t?”</p><p>“I’ll have my First Mate take me out back and shoot me.  Best not be you, Corso,” she said with a laugh. </p><p>“Good golly.  You’re awful sometimes, but I think that’s to throw me off and end the conversation.”  Eva stared at the intercom near her head, the small black dots of the speaker not revealing anything.  He was getting clever in his old age.  “So I’m going to be wise to you, Cap.  What are you going to do if this gig ends?” </p><p>“My, my, my, aren’t we bold when you don’t have to see my face.  And you’re not in range of my blaster.”  Eva was slightly shocked but also very amused at Corso engaging her in a battle of wits – and holding his own for once.  Typically, it was like swatting a fly with an Imperial destroyer. </p><p>“Or your Wookiee.  Bowdaar found the one tree on all of Dantooine that could support his weight,” Corso happily reported. “So now you’ve got answer my question.” </p><p>Eva leaned her head up against the glass.  “You’ve got to realize I don’t want to think about that.  I like my life as it is.”</p><p>“But what if it had to change?” Corso pressed.</p><p>“There’s a difference between my life having to change and me wanting it to change.” Eva carefully put the manual down on the deck beside her and drew her legs up toward her chest, wedging herself deeper into the viewport.  “If I <em>had</em> to, I wouldn’t have a choice, and I’d suck it up and deal with it.  I can’t imagine ever volunteering.” </p><p>There was a pause as Corso took a sip of something – probably caf or water.  “You really can’t think of it.  You can’t think of anything beyond this ship.”</p><p>Eva shrugged.  “Why should I? I’m happy with what I have and the universe that I have it in.  People dream about a different life when they’re unhappy or when they’re planning a big long life that needs them to change.”  She ran the fingers of her left hand back through her hair to get it off her face.  “I don’t see that happening to me.” </p><p>“So always going to live up here on the <em>Thief</em>?”</p><p>“Yep.”</p><p>“What if – and no, I’m not saying it’ll be me, I’m dreaming of a farm and I’m just smart enough to know now you’re not a farm girl – what if you find a guy that isn’t a spacer?  That has roots or a family somewhere.” </p><p>Corso was going to move on, Eva slowly realized.  It had been nearly five months since their explosive disagreement on Carrick.  Corso wasn’t going to be here forever.  It was one thing to academically know it.  It was another to feel it draw closer as he actively began to get ready for the life he wanted.  The one he really wanted, not the one he had to grind to make credits.</p><p>Eva was both proud of him and on the verge of minor grief.  She – Her life –</p><p>He was right.  It was going to change.  It wasn’t going to be the seven of them (including C2-N2) forever.  Eva couldn’t process that right now, though.  “Don’t know.  Hasn’t happened yet.  I could still run business, come by, see him on the weekend.  There are cultures that have that – live separate lives during the week, party hard at the weekend.”  Eva shook her head.  “I don’t know, Corso.  That person hasn’t materialized.”</p><p>“And it would have to be a person – you aren’t going to change just because someone tells you it’s ladylike or the right thing to do.”  When did Corso get wise, at last?  How did she miss the moment when the light went on? After five years, he was getting over her.  Or at least the idea of her- Eva had never actually fit into the mold of woman Corso said he wanted, but he was attached to her anyway, living in perpetual hope. </p><p>He still lived in perpetual hope, but not for her.  Eva wasn’t sure how she felt about that.  She was surprised at her emotional confusion on the matter.  Had Corso’s pining been a constant in her universe?  That was awful of her, then, to let herself assume that even as she rejected him, he would continue to pursue her, always. </p><p>All she could say to him was, “I’ve never lived in-bounds, Corso.  My parents were smugglers.  They – I’ll tell you some day.  Their relationship was interesting.”</p><p>“You always say some day – hey, you got a message from the secret agent.  Want me to read it out?”</p><p>Eva rearranged herself and grabbed her manual again.  Depending on what he said, they may be changing plans.  “Go ahead.”</p><p>Corso read Theron’s letter aloud over the intercom. </p><p>
  <em>From Theron Shan</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Subject: Still In One Piece</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Just checking in. none of our new friends have tried to crush my windpipe yet, so things are going well.  </em>
</p><p>Eva chuckled. </p><p>
  <em>Darok is still off the grid, but I’m keeping my eyes open. There’s no telling how long this plan has been in the works; just have to hope we’ve thrown them off enough that they make some mistakes we can track.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>We’re going to find them, and they’re going to pay for Tython.</em>
</p><p>“And that’s all he wrote,” Corso finished.  “He seems really upset about the Tython raid.”</p><p>Eva hesitated.  “Yeah.  He’s got family in the Order – he took it personally.”  She left it at that ambiguity.</p><p>Corso put down the holotransceiver with an audible clunk. “The Jedi are good people.”</p><p>Eva stretched and then rose to her feet to start edging out of the gunner’s compartment and up to the main of the ship.  “I certainly don’t think you should be terrorizing places where kids are being educated and old people are looking to die in peace.”</p><p>“And Tython is sacred,” Corso reminded her.  There was a pause.  “You’ve never given Force-users any special courtesy – Jedi or Sith.  Why?” Corso asked.</p><p>“ I think the galaxy already gives them too much.  The galaxy should not be controlled by bunch of elite space wizards that want to blast each other to kingdom come, with everything else and everyone else being an afterthought.”  Eva scurried up the ladder, heaving the manual up into the hallway as she neared the top. It landed with an audible “thud,” letting Corso know she’d see him momentarily.  “Also, how many of them are there?  They’re a minority population, and yet the Republic and the Empire dance to their tune.  I’m not a fan.”</p><p>Eva saw Corso appear at the top of the ladder, having emerged from the cockpit.  He picked up the manual as she finished her climb.  “It was kind of rude that the Sith lady referred to you as ‘inadequate.’” </p><p>Eva hoisted herself up to her feet at the top of the ladder.  “To me, they’re actively running a scam – a well-orchestrated scam with religious decorations and feel-good mysticism, whether you like helping people or helping yourself.  They use magnets, anti-grav units, laser lights – high-end con tricks.  I’d feel better about them if they just copped to it.”  Eva took the book from Corso’s hands and the two of them walked back up to the cockpit.</p><p> “Ah, but you believe Guss when he senses things.”  Corso waggled a finger at her as they sat down in the pilot and co-pilot seats. </p><p>“I totally believe Guss when he senses things.  I believe something is out there in the universe.  You know that.”  Corso nodded; she had said as much in the past.   “I just think the Jedi and the Sith have it wrong, and some of them know it.” </p><p>Corso reached over and flicked on vehicle telemetry.  “I’m not that cynical – maybe they are wrong, but I don’t think it’s an active thing they keep lying about.”</p><p>Eva leaned in and gestured with open hands to Corso. “I mean, they recruit toddlers and take them away from their parents at a young age to make sure they ‘turn out right’.  Does that not sound suspect to you?” </p><p>Corso leaned back in the co-pilot’s chair. “Please don’t make this creepy,” he winced.</p><p>“What?  Jedi aren’t supposed to have kids or attachments.  They have to recruit to grow -- you see younglings running around the temples when we do a flyover.  But did you know what to do with girls when you were four?”</p><p>“I thought girls had cooties,” Corso admitted.</p><p>As Eva spoke, her gestures became more dramatic, as if she were regaling a four-year-old Corso with all the adventure and glory that awaited him.   “Yeah, well, imagine some big guy with a shiny light sword telling you you’d never ever have to deal with cooties, you get a light sword, and you get to learn how to do backflips and stuff.  You’re going to do this to fight Big Bad Scary Things.  You’re four.” </p><p>Then Eva dropped her voice, low, almost to a whisper, all motion ceased.  “And they’re telling your parents that one day, you’ll be ‘too much’ for them to handle.  You overhear that you might hurt them someday.  It’s better for you to go. So Corso, at age four, do you want to become a Jedi?” </p><p>Corso scowled at her.  “Why do you have to ruin everything?” </p><p>Eva didn’t have an answer for that.  She shrugged and put her hands down and reseated herself in her captain’s chair.  “You asked.  That’s what I find unappealing about both Sith and Jedi.  What the hell do you know about yourself at four, besides red crayons tasting better than blue ones?”</p><p>The two of them started to look over the ship readouts in silence.</p><p>Then.  “Risha’s friend Sumalee got into them when she was way older than four – and Risha and her friends are not dumb.”</p><p>“Redemption is a powerful incentive, psychologically.  Feeling like you can make up for all the awful things you did in the past.”  Eva did not take her eyes off the screen.</p><p>“Well, what do you do to feel better, Cap?  Besides smoke a lot when people die,” Corso finally burst out at her, slamming his palm on a few actuators to pause the data readout. </p><p>“Actually do something to fix what I screwed up.”  Eva stopped working on her end of the telemetry and stared straight out of cockpit toward the endless boredom of Dantooine. </p><p>She felt the heat of Corso’s glare dissipate. “ You don’t move on.”</p><p>“No, I don’t wait.  I don’t wait to start a new life or ‘turn over a new leaf’ as some say.”  Eva swept her hand across the <em>Thief’s</em> cockpit, spinning in her chair and then stopping as she faced forward again.  “This is it.  If I break something, I deal with it in the present.  There are no bygones.  There is no redemption by saying ‘I’m different now, don’t hold it against me.’”</p><p>Eva finally looked over at Corso.  He was steadily digesting this information. “This is why you’re trying to fix what happened at Korriban and Tython. It’s why you fixed that situation with Ivory, finally.  When you became the Voidhound… you were trying to fix what you broke when you were fighting with Rogun.  You want to get it right the first time.”</p><p>She amended his statement.  “I try to get it right the only time.”</p><p>Corso looked out at Dantooine.  “There’s so much potential out here – to get it right and wrong.  Future is wide open.  I can’t ignore the opportunity – as interesting as life on the ship is.”</p><p>Eva realized he saw opportunity where she saw boredom.  He saw this place completely differently than she did.  “Corso, you do sharpen me – make me think differently.”</p><p>Corso mildly smiled.  “And here I was trying to knock off some of those sharp edges.”</p><p>“Impossible.”</p><p>“I know.”  And now he truly did. </p><p>Captain and First Mate resumed their work analyzing the telemetry and preparing <em>Virtue’s Thief</em> for departure. </p><p>**</p><p>A true sign of Dantooine’s growing population came with the establishment of a network of minor space ports with adjoining all-night diners.   These establishments were on moons, under biodomes, or on other habitable planets along flightpaths between Dantooine and civilization.   Quite literally, these ports were little more than a starship parking lot, a refueling center, and an eatery.  They were often desolate beyond the lights that dotted the lots</p><p>The crew of Virtue’s Thief stopped over at one of them after getting off to an exceedingly late take-off from Dantooine.  It was in the early, early morning hours that the crew ate their meal, still lively and not quite ready for bed. The diner itself was pretty empty when they arrived. </p><p>It was not until they were walking back to the space port that Eva noticed that they were not alone.  She had stopped for a moment to flip her wrist comm unit around – somehow she’d put it on upside down, no clue how that happened.  Probably lack of sleep, striking again.  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that glimmer, that shine that had caught her eye back on Manaan.</p><p>She kept walking.  As long as everyone kept moving, they couldn’t get them.  Guss ‘hmm’ed to himself, and Eva knew he was getting a very bad feeling about something.</p><p>The situation was made clear by a voice yelling across the parking lot.  “Voidhound.”</p><p>“Eyes forward, especially you, Risha.  No response,” Eva issued the order in Shyriiwook.  The crew understood it, even if they couldn’t speak it.</p><p>Reaching into the right breast pocket of her jacket, she pulled out her compact mirror. She flipped it open and pretended to adjust her Dermaplast over her right eye.  Instead of actually doing that, she peered behind her. </p><p>“We have a tail at seven o’clock.” </p><p>Everyone knew the drill.  Everyone kept moving.  Corso knelt to adjust a loose tie on his cargo pants, letting himself drop back into the seven o’clock position, trailing the group slightly. Akaavi brought herself in closer to the group to fill the gap left by Corso at the front. </p><p>Eva considered the possibility that there might be two.  “Activating ship defenses – in case we have a friend waiting for us.”</p><p>When Eva hit the button on the wrist comm, she waited for the connection to be made between her command and the main computer on the ship.  This typically took about sixteen seconds, because the XS was old.</p><p>It bounced back to her almost immediately, no connection made –</p><p>It had been intercepted.</p><p>They knew who was using the wrist comm—</p><p>She was made –</p><p>“I screwed up.”</p><p>Eva didn’t feel it, initially.  She was just suddenly clotheslined, her head being snapped back in one direction even as her feet continued on their path. She felt her feet leave the ground.  It was when she attempted to get her hands behind her head to avoid smashing her skull open on the pavement that the right hand obeyed, but the left did not.  The left responded to her request for movement with an overwhelming, nauseating burst of agony. </p><p>She screamed. </p><p>Her left shoulder came alive with white-hot pain, burgeoning warmth piercing through her layers of clothing only to feel ice cold when it bubbled up into the night air. </p><p>Leave it to Eva Corolastor to survive everything that she had, only to die in an Intergalactic House of Pancakes parking lot. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Wetwork</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Risha Drayen marshals all of the skills her father taught her to deal with the crisis.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you, readers.  I do appreciate every click, kudos, or comment you leave on my works.  I just surpassed 500 reads and 50 kudos on my account this week, so I'll be posting a one-shot on Wednesday as a Thank You. :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Risha had seen many people die before.  She had even been pressed by her father to check to see that his lieutenants were dead.  She checked their pulses, ensured their wounds were fatal, and made sure there were no loose ends. </p><p>Risha was ten, about to be eleven. </p><p>The noises of death were not uncommon in Nok Drayen’s world.  The gurgling noise made by someone drowning in their own blood.  The small gasp and the sucking noise as someone’s lung’s were punctured – the tiny noises as they suffocated.  The smell of burnt flesh and the sound of sizzling after a blaster fight.    </p><p>Nok let people linger.  He let them suffer as an example to others. </p><p>One of the many things Risha liked about Eva was that when she did kill on her own business, there was no suffering.  It was a conclusive shot to the head or to the heart.  If it had to be done, then it was to be done quickly with minimal mess. </p><p>Unless, of course, they had been employed to do a Very Awful Thing.  Sometimes, the employer wanted some wetwork – it cost extra, but Eva offered it since some men were willing to pay a very high premium to know that a beautiful woman had tortured their target.  Then Eva was quite capable of keeping her head on her shoulders and her feet on the ground, despite a river of blood around her.</p><p>Blaster bolts applied to unprotected skin not only burned, but they also super-heated the flesh around the wound.  The human body is up to 60% water.  When shot, the water components of the human body convert to steam and burst through the flesh.  A non-fatal shot was a series of tiny explosions of hot steam, ripping through a body.  Whatever was not instantly cauterized by the laser bolt provided bursts of blood erupting at the surface.  It could be quite spectacular. </p><p>Akaavi and Eva split torture responsibilities while Risha ran the business end of VATs. They even had a holo package at an excessively expensive price.</p><p>It was amazing, the number of takers.    </p><p>Blood, for the uninitiated, has the consistency and slickness of motor oil.  People who are bleeding can drag themselves a fair distance because their own blood greases the path.  Doing wetwork can become dangerous because everything becomes slippery – tools slip.  Mistakes can be made.  For those who do medical work, these properties present similar problems.  Stopping the bleed, not falling upon the injured, being able to do work on a bleeding person – always challenging. </p><p>All of these thoughts stampeded through Risha’s mind as Eva’s scream cut through the air, accentuated by a bright flash of a laser bolt.</p><p>Eva never screamed.  She cursed, she gasped, she growled, she told people to hurry up.  This time, she screamed – wordless, ripped from her involuntarily. Risha went cold at the sound. </p><p>By the time Risha turned to see Eva thrown backwards, there was already blood bubbling up through her clothes.  Upper left shoulder. </p><p>Eva’s scream ended as she hit the ground, the glaze of shock coming over her eyes even as Risha’s knees hit the pavement next to her.  Eva made no further sound, eyes open.  This was bad.  Risha was tugging off her jacket, discarding her rifle, trying to ball up the fabric to push down on the shoulder wound, try to keep enough blood inside Eva to get her to the ship, to keep her from –</p><p>“Risha, give me your damn rifle, I see him,” came Corso’s furious bark.  Bowdaar slammed into Risha as he ran back and away from the group. </p><p>“Take it!”  Risha did not even look up.  She heard the rattle of her blaster rifle dragged across the pavement before being pulled up by Corso, who also was on his knees. </p><p>Risha thought she heard two shots, she was not sure, because Guss pulled her across Eva’s body, both to increase the compression but also to flatten her. “Let go of me,” she spat.</p><p>“They want the kill – stay down.”  Guss dug his hand into her back, pressing her down against Eva’s shaking, increasingly cold body. </p><p>Bowdaar let out a yowl from somewhere behind them, and it was shortly followed by a man’s screaming, then a sickening crack and the sound of splatter on the pavement. </p><p>That was one, Risha supposed. </p><p>As Corso continued to trade fire with the sniper, a third figure flew up on a jetpack from the direction of the ship, armed with a blaster.  It was a Mando.  Risha found herself pinned where she was on the ground, watching the mercenary try to see around her and Guss to check if Eva was dead yet. </p><p>At that moment, Risha heard Corso announce, “Sniper down, blood spray.”  The merc aimed his pistol at Corso and went to squeeze the trigger—</p><p>And he was suddenly tangled in a net launched from Akaavi’s wrist.  Akaavi, who had laid so close to the ground in the darkness that she was nearly forgotten.  Akaavi, the deadliest, had waited.  The mercenary attempted to fly off, but with a flick of her wrist, the net electrified and choked him, deactivating his jetpack and bringing him hurtling toward the surface of the planet with a loud thunk.  The body went limp. </p><p>Akaavi wordlessly reeled him in toward her, muscles straining under the space port lights.  With a quick flip of her vibroblade, she severed the connection between the merc and the jetpack – no more flying today.  With efficient brutality, she found the man’s collar and exposed his neck.  As she began the motion to slit his through, there was a beep.  Akaavi’s green eyes flashed, and she dropped the knife away from her as her hand plunged into the man’s armor, seeking.  Finding…</p><p>A bounty puck. </p><p>Suddenly all was still. </p><p>It had taken less than forty-five seconds for the world to be blown apart.</p><p>Risha pushed herself up, throwing Guss’s weight off her.  “Eva.”  She called her name.</p><p>The darting, glazed eyes focused on her for a moment.  “Voidhound,” Eva whispered back to her.  Guss inhaled sharply as he watched for Risha’s response. </p><p>No.</p><p>Not this way.   </p><p>Risha’s reaction was violent.  “No, not today.”  Deep red blood was seeping out of Eva and was beginning to make the ground around her shoulder slippery and dangerous.  Risha screamed in frustration. “Bowdaar!”</p><p>“Take it,” the pallid figure weakly insisted.  She no longer shook on the ground. There was a strange calm setting in around them.</p><p>“Shut up, you stupid bitch,” was Risha’s sharp response.  Be angry, not weepy. The Wookiee loomed over Risha’s shoulder, casting a shadow over them.  “Get her into med bay, now. Just throw her into the kolto tank, military-grade infusion.”</p><p>Bowdaar whimpered as he scooped the prone, bloodied figure off the group.  Guss pulled himself to his feet.  “It’s the only way.  I just did medbay inventory after Manaan.” </p><p>The Mon Cal had to break out in a dead run to keep up with the Wookiee’s long, loping strides.  Risha sat back on her knees, trembling.  She looked around her.  Corso had run back toward Bowdaar’s kill, who was literally in pieces in the parking lot.  Oh stars, they had to do clean-up in a place like this. </p><p>Risha stomped down on her desire to be weak.  “Akaavi, he alive?” </p><p>“Yes.”  The Zabrak exuded fury as she scowled at the unconscious heap in her net.</p><p>“Can we trace that puck back?  Figure out who did this and how?”</p><p>Akaavi nodded.  “I can already see his technology that was used to intercept the Captain’s ship signals. This is not standard issue for a civilian bounty hunter.  He has high-paying patrons.” </p><p>Risha motioned toward the distant figures of Bowdaar and Guss.  Her voice cut into a tone used by her father, one that he had trained her in to do the worst things.  “Get the drekk into the cargo hold.  Make sure he stays unconscious until we figure out what to do with him.  Then get Bowie back out here to help with clean up.  We need this to be fast, and Corso and I can’t sling bodies like he can.” </p><p>Akaavi acknowledged her orders and turned on her heel to hoist the Mandalorian mercenary over her shoulders and began the long walk toward the ship.  Risha watched as the netting trailed through a puddle of blood.  Eva’s blood.</p><p>Risha looked back at Corso and began the walk toward him, shivering in her short-sleeve shirt.  She left her blood-drenched coat on the ground – they’d get it in a minute.  Corso flashed a hand signal as she approached.  She hoped Bowdaar came back soon.  According to Corso, the corpse in the back was missing a leg.  Hopefully the Wookiee knew where he flung it.  But at least they had the head, which was shockingly easy to misplace in a time like this. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. The (Mostly) Good Patient</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Revenge is plotted.  Old issues are finally put to bed.  Eva goes on staycation in the most smug life way possible.  Of course.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Repeat from previous chapter:  Thank you, readers. I do appreciate every click, kudos, or comment you leave on my works. I just surpassed 500 reads and 50 kudos on my account this week, so I'll be posting a one-shot on Wednesday as a Thank You. :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eva saw C2.  Lots of pillows. Was she awake? “C2?” Who was that?</p><p>“Oh, Master, you gave us all quite a scare.” The droid moved. He had a glass.</p><p>She took the water. Did she drink it?  “Don’t remember.  How?”</p><p>She was in medbay.</p><p>The <em>Thief</em> was at the space port. No, now it moved. She knew her ship moved.  But then it stopped.  They were going to eat.  It was late.  They got off Dantooine late.  Corso was leaving – not now but soon?  Memories, fragments, everywhere. </p><p>Eva forgot what C2 said.  She remembered what C2 meant.</p><p>She was shot. She stayed awake, silent and still, seeing all.  Bowie had thrown her in with all her clothes on. </p><p>Akaavi.  Day time?  She passed by.  She frowned.  Her bio readings were awake. </p><p>The glass became too close.  She punched it with her fist.  C2 was scared.  He ran out.  Bowie pulled her up and out.  Now she was in bed.</p><p>C2 did not lie.  She did not remember.</p><p>She remembered important things.  “Crew safe?”</p><p>“Affirmative.” </p><p>“Stims.”  She pointed to her head.  “Can’t remember.  Get crew?”</p><p>“I’ll go get Miss Risha.” </p><p>At some point, Risha came.  She asked.  Eva didn’t know.</p><p>Eva touched her head.  Something.  “Help.” </p><p>Risha said.  Risha said.  Risha said. Risha said.</p><p>Hiss.</p><p>**</p><p>Eva was awake as she felt her mind dragged over all over the information shards that lay scattered around her skull.  “That sucked.”</p><p>“Hello to you, too.”  Risha put down the hypospray.  “You’re on drugs.”</p><p>“Sweet.”  Eva reached for the glass of water only to find it still clenched in her hand. She stared at it before bringing it to her mouth. “I did not have a good time coming out of the kolto haze.”</p><p>Risha cast an eye at the large machine in the corner.  “Yeah. That military-grade kolto was weird. Basically, when you use it with blood packs, it uses nanite technology to start basic reconstruction processes.  It mines the genetic information to help put you back together.”  Risha consulted the medbay refrigerated closet.  “You’re going to need to replenish your supply after you recover.” </p><p>All crew had their own blood bank.  It made sense, given their line of business. </p><p>Eva drained her glass.  Dry mouth.  “How long?”</p><p>Risha checked the chrono.  “About 16 hours since you were shot.”</p><p>Oh. That was a new development.  Wait, no, it wasn’t.  “Where?”</p><p>Risha gave her a look.  “Where as in body location or galactic geography?”</p><p>Eva shrugged.  Why was it that only her right shoulder was moving?  “I remember parking the <em>Thief</em>.  That’s it.  I knew I was shot, but even that’s sort of… vague.”  A flicker, a freezing feeling. Eva squinted at a memory that gave her the slip.  “Did I promote you to Voidhound?”</p><p>Risha flinched.  “Let’s not talk about that.  Yes, you were shot.  Left shoulder.”  That answered the moving question. “Until the military kolto started to do its thing, we thought we were going to haul you back to Port Nowhere for an amputation.”</p><p>“Yikes” was Eva’s only response to that.  “How is it now?”</p><p>Risha stared at her.  “You’re not firing on all cylinders.  You should be in some obvious pain.”  Eva shrugged, right shoulder only.   Frowning, Risha stalked over to the bio readers and flipped them on, full battery of tests.</p><p>While the machine whirred and buzzed at her, Eva tried to get her mind running again.  It felt stalled out, lagging, not connecting with the universe, the world beyond the ship.  At least now she was thinking in full sentences rather than in glutinous blobs. She looked around for C2, who was peering in through the door.  “More water?”</p><p>The droid took the glass from her to refill it.  “Miss Risha, we did implement a nerve block on the Captain last night, so that she could recover.”</p><p>“Of course.  Thank you, C2.”  Risha looked over the notes on Eva from the previous night, which nobody else remembered but the droid.  “Oh, boy, fun decision time.”</p><p>“Uh oh.”  Eva held up a single finger as C2 brought her the water.  “Let me get the desert of Tatooine out of my mouth first.”   After she drained the glass, she handed it back to C2. “You better clear all the breakables.  Fun decision time.”  Eva settled back against the pillows that C2 had piled impossibly high on the medbay bed.  “Go for it.”</p><p>Risha laid the options on the table.  “You have a choice.  You can live like this for the next two days.  Dumb and docile.  You won’t be able to act or plan much more than five minutes ahead of time.  We can handle the remaining would-be assassin, and you just drift along.”</p><p>Eva made a face.  “Sounds boring.  Also, given the fact someone just took a shot at me, I’m finding it kind of annoying that I can only muster mild offense rather than a nice rampage.  Option 2?”</p><p>“You have us nullify the nerve block and have your brain fully operational again.  You will be in excruciating pain, but we can mitigate that, somewhat – not as good as the nerve block, but once the reverse is in, we have to wait twenty-four hours before reimplementing.  We don’t want to tax your kidneys.  Let me be clear, this option is <em>really</em> going to hurt.”</p><p>“But we can make it so I can think straight, right?”  Eva asked.</p><p>“Yes. Also, I really do think we need to decide what we’re doing with the hostage in the cargo bay.  He’s taking up space, and Akaavi is getting impatient.”</p><p>“Been awhile since we did our own wetwork.  Early birthday present.”  Eva sat up straighter. “Right.  Shoot me up.”</p><p>**</p><p>The howl of rage ricocheted through the ship, followed by the flood of obscenity.</p><p>“Boss is up.”</p><p>“Good.”</p><p>“I’ll get Akaavi.”</p><p>**</p><p>Risha was not fucking kidding.  This shit <em>hurt</em>.  Every other thought in her mind was a curse, an obscenity, a rant, a hex, or a venomous barb at those responsible for this indignity.  This included herself.  She’d fucked up, badly.</p><p>Now her crew were gathering in medbay to figure out what the hell they were doing next.  Even as her left shoulder pulsed painfully with each beat of her heart, Eva was so damn happy and relieved.  She took comfort in that she was the one who paid for her mistake and no one else. </p><p>Eva could live with this. </p><p>But not with the pain.  Not for long. She had to get through this briefing however.  With Risha’s help, she’d managed to get into a basic pair of pajamas – her old shirt had to be cut off, which aggrieved her.  Thanks to the kolto, the wound itself was closed, but minimal movement was ideal.  In order to encourage the healing of the tendons without risk of them healing too short, her left arm was braced over her chest.  Another dip in the kolto tank or two and she should be out of the woods in that regard, but for the next couple of days, she was lucky she was right-handed. </p><p>The Voidhound demanded revenge.  It was an affront to her status – how dare they send three?  Only three.  How dare they take her out like a small-time crook in a random, desolate location?</p><p>Eva wanted revenge.  These fools had endangered her crew.  She had waited so long for them to spring.  They likely had no idea what the connection was between the Voidhound and their employer, whoever he or she might be.  She hated their ignorance.  At least have the courtesy to use knowledgeable tools.</p><p>Both aspects of the woman were pleased, however: now the game was known.  Let her thoughts be bloody. </p><p>She had given herself a fair hour to have her brilliant idea and think it through half-way – the crew could fill in the rest if needed.  The anger helped her focus.  It also helped to block out some of the pain, but definitely not all of it. </p><p>“Right.  Not a long meeting, but a necessary one.  First, I need a basic rundown of what happened last night,” Eva ground through the statement.  This <em>fucking</em> hurt. </p><p>Guss answered first.  “You’re not dead, so that’s a win.”</p><p>Akaavi easily jumped in and efficiently delivered the report.  “Three Mandalorian bounty hunters, with a puck traceable to the Citadel on Dromund Kaas, attacked last night.  You were struck by a high-power blaster rifle.  Corso shot the sniper.  There was a tail behind us – Bowdaar disposed of him.  The third man was the intel gatherer and the mastermind – he had all of the advanced technology required to ensnare us.  He’s currently in the cargo hold.” </p><p>“Hot or cold?”</p><p>“He’s alive.  Sedated.”  Akaavi crossed her arms.  “What would you have me do with him?”</p><p>Eva did not hesitate.  “I think you should extract all the information you can out of him,” the Voidhound answered.  “Keep him alive long enough to do so.  I’ll decide at the end how helpful he has been.” </p><p>Akaavi asked, “Food? Water?  Waste facilities?”</p><p>Eva nodded.  “I think we still have the last of Hylo’s cat litter somewhere.  He’s unworthy of it, but I want that information.” </p><p>Corso raised a hand.  Eva gave him the nod. “I’m working on reverse engineering the bounty puck so that instead of pointing at you, it points us back to who put the bounty up.  Now, the tricky thing here is that it’s a bifurcated puck.”</p><p>“That’s an 18-point word, Corso – I’m impressed,” Risha commented.</p><p>Corso rubbed the back of his neck.  “I had to look it up to get it right.  But it’s what it is – the bounty has two potential people it would be reported to: the one who ordered the hit and the one who fronted the money for it.  Either one would mark the hit complete.”</p><p>Eva frowned.  “So we’re talking multiple Imps in on this?  Not just the red guy?”</p><p>“Yup.  I reckon that if I work the puck and Akaavi works over ‘tall, shiny, and ugly’ in the cargo hold, we can meet in the middle and get the answer right.” </p><p>Eva nodded.  Bowdaar finally spoke up.  “Those cowards did not seek to fight us.  They tried to eliminate you from the shadows to avoid your skills.”</p><p>Risha crossed her arms.  “That’s the point of an assassination – it’s not about honor.”</p><p>Bowdaar thumped the medbay counter. Akaavi agreed with him, “It’s an insult.  Mandalorians should test themselves against worthy foes, not attempt to poach them like game animals.”</p><p>Bowdaar shook a claw at her. “You need a show of strength.  The Empire should not think they can just kill you at will.  You need to hurt them, little girl.” </p><p>Eva gave the Wookiee a half smile.  “I’m pretty sure the guy you dismembered was in considerable pain.”</p><p>Bowdaar’s blue eyes remained angry.  “You need to do more to the Empire.  One bounty hunter means nothing to them.  You must strike them proportionately to your worth.” </p><p>Guss shook his head.  “I don’t think we can muster that without getting ourselves killed, directly.”</p><p>“I hate to agree with Guss, but he’s right – revenge is stupid if it’s done recklessly.”  Risha watched the other crew members as the conversation carried on.</p><p>Eva winced as she squared herself up on the medbay bed.  “I don’t plan on hurting them the same way they hurt me.  They don’t care about body count.  What do Imps in high places care about?”  Eva floated the rhetorical question.</p><p>Risha tilted her head.  “Power.”</p><p> “All they do is jockey over that whenever they’re not attacking the Republic.”  Corso scowled.</p><p>Eva arched a brow.  “And what do they need for both pursuits?”</p><p>Guss blinked.  “Money.”</p><p>Eva pointed to the Mon Cal.  “That’s universal power – affects everyone, even if you can’t do hand-wavy magic stuff. So let’s hit them in the wallet.”</p><p>Risha gave her a look.  “How do you propose to do that?  You’re the black market, not a legitimate trader or supplier in the Empire that has significant weight.”</p><p>Eva flexed her left hand in its braced position.  “What’s the most lucrative trade in the Empire?”</p><p>Akaavi answered her.  “Slaves.  Prices are high now.”</p><p>“Why?”  Her dark russet eyes darted around the room, watching as the crew became more animated as their minds clicked into gear. </p><p>Akaavi’s brow furrowed. “You have discontinued major slave trade routes as Voidhound.  The commodity is rarer than it was two years ago, in most basic terms.” </p><p>“And how central is slavery to the Imperial economy?  All their buildings, their servants, their projects, their agriculture?”  Eva’s gaze flitted around the room.  “Let’s not forget that the slave trade industry itself is vital to the Imp economy.  The Empire is built on the backs of slaves and the money that they are worth.”  She let a thin, cruel smile cross her face.  “Let’s flood the market.”</p><p>Bowdaar regarded her carefully, eyes troubled.  “Where would you get these slaves?”</p><p>“Who says they would be real?” Most of the crew looked confused, but Akaavi’s green eyes lit up, flickering with realization. Eva gestured to her.  “Tell them how the slave market works in the Empire.” </p><p>Akaavi adjusted her stance slightly – an explanation was indeed needed.  “The Empire’s system of slavery is complex. It is a class system, wherein slaves are perpetually and generationally ensnared in it, whether within the ownership of the Empire itself or in the hands of private citizens.  Rarely can a slave work his way to manumission.  Most state-owned slaves have nothing but what the State gives to them, and they and their descendants will never escape.  Some private slaveowners do free their slaves, but many just keep them, generation and after generation, never ceding them regardless of how much they care or do not care about their well-being.  Slaves are conquered– prisoners of war, aliens, debtors.  Due to the Captain’s actions, the price of slave is at a near-all-time high.  Slaves are listed on the market by their chain codes.”</p><p>And then it all made sense.  Risha cut in.  “The price is high because slaves are rarer.  The slave market is an entity that is on the Imperial stock exchange.  People speculate whether the price of slaves will go up or down.   If we were to flood the market with cheap slaves, it would disrupt not only the slave market, but also the stock exchange because every single entity on the exchange relies on slave labor, somehow.”</p><p>“But those slaves don’t actually have to exist because we’d just be flooding the market with chain codes…which we could probably generate?  If we had a computer?”  Guss mused out loud.  “I used to do small-time chain code forgeries, but nothing like this.  I know how it works, though.” </p><p>Eva felt her arm’s piercing pain, but she couldn’t help but gloat.  “And even as we tank the stock market’s speculations, there will be a huge buy for cheap slaves when we price them right.  The fake chain codes will be out of our hands, and the credits will be in them.  We launder that through Port Nowhere, get it to where it needs to go.”</p><p>Corso rubbed his face.  “And shucks, some of those folk will try to double their money by putting those chain codes right back on the market after getting it from us.  And they’ll catch even bigger fish—"</p><p>Bowdaar spoke up. “What happens when they find out they are not real?”</p><p>“I think that will be part of the fun, Bowie.”  Eva started to chuckle.  “The ensuing chaos as people realize they literally bought nothing and then either freak out or throw it back on the market for an even lower price… and by that point, nobody will know which slaves actually exist or not.” </p><p>Bowdaar started to huff and puff happily at the thought.  “Oh,  you little Teek.  This is good.” </p><p>Eva reached for her glass of water with her right hand.  “The only piece I think we need is the ability to generate chain codes quickly.  I know you can manage it, Guss, and C2 can probably help – but I’m thinking a lot of chain codes in less than a few hours.” She peered at Guss from over her glass rim as she drank.</p><p>“Like a few million or something?”</p><p>Risha pulled up some information on her data pad.  “From what I see, there are about 20 million slaves on the market now.  So 5?”</p><p>Eva nodded and took a sip.  “5 million sounds about right.  We’d put them up through a series of shell companies – Risha, can you handle that?” </p><p>Guss held out his hand to Risha as she nodded, gesturing for the data pad.  “I’m thinking this chain code generation thing is going to require either a professional slicer or a mech that can do slicing work.  If you want 5 mill in, say, 3 hours – start dumping them on the market about two hours into the business day, finish the dump by an hour or two before close…” </p><p>Akaavi looked over at the Mon Cal.  “Small-time forgeries?”</p><p>Guss shrugged as he ran a few sims and calculations on the data pad.  “Depends on how big small is, I guess.”  He looked over at his captain.  “Got any ideas?”</p><p>Eva flinched as she considered.  “Rogun is the obvious choice for a pro slicer.  However, we all know that once the Empire figures out that someone is flooding the market, they might send a ping back up the line.  I don’t want them to get a fix on where the Port is.  Rogun won’t leave Port Nowhere, I can tell you that much – Imps are nearly as mad at him as they are at me.”  Eva suddenly had a thought.  “You know, go ahead and send Rogun word that I want the Makeb thing to go.  As soon as possible.  Let him handle that – he’ll know what that means.”</p><p>Eva figured that not<em> every</em> little thing had to be known to the crew. </p><p>Corso asked, “Are we going to go park the <em>Thief</em> in Imp space while this is happening?  Then we just light skip out of there, even if they send a ping up?” </p><p>“Yeah.  Might have to take a few detours through a few magnetized asteroid belts to make sure we’re good and lost to them, but it’s better than risking home base.”</p><p>“So no Rogun.” Guss muttered.  “What about Spy Guy?”</p><p>Eva suddenly felt as if the entire room leaned in on her.  “Don’t know if we can or should take him out of Pub space – Port Nowhere is one thing, Imp space is a big no-no.  He would fit the bill though.”  Eva paused and regarded the ceiling momentarily.  “Think a T3 astromech might work, Guss?”</p><p>Guss nodded.  “Yeah.  I just need an extra set of skilled sentient hands or a droid that can take instructions and work fast.  We can use the engineering computer to gen codes – that thing’s never been hooked up to the Holonet, so it lacks a Holonet address.  If we port the codes it makes via data stick to the <em>Thief’s </em>main transmitters, Imps won’t have a clear computer-of-origin signature on it.”</p><p>“Well, ain’t you full of surprises and good ideas, Guss,” Corso drawled, tilted his head in minor shock at his crewmate.  </p><p>“I’ve done a lot of cons in my time – not this big though.”</p><p>Eva took another few swallows of her water.  “We’ll make it work.  We need to pick some stuff up in Coruscant anyway – foodstuff, celebratory materials for when we destroy the Imperial economy, that sort of thing.”  Eva went to put the glass back on her tray table--</p><p>Suddenly, a jolt of pain shot through her left shoulder to her back. Eva dropped the glass and it shattered on the medbay floor.  Eva squeezed her eyes shut tightly as she cursed.  She could hear Corso scramble for something to sweep it up, Risha’s feet rushing toward her bio readers.  “I think it’s painkiller and sedative time.  Your body says it is done for today.  Everyone out.” </p><p>Eva opened her eyes and nodded, but then she had an idea.  “Can I have a drink instead? And I don’t mean water.  All the stuff you already have me on is messing with my kidneys, which is why I’m drinking water like I’m in a desert. The drink will go play with my liver.”</p><p>Risha looked at Eva like she wanted to kill her.  </p><p>A few taps on a data pad.  “Based on what Risha has here, the alcohol cautions all refer to hallucinations and incoherence if you mix it with painkillers,” offered Guss.</p><p>“Basically, I’ll be tripping balls until we get back to the Core Worlds – which means I really won’t be any more trouble than being a medication zombie.”  Eva attempted to be as convincing as possible.</p><p>“Smug logic: here for a good time, not a long time,” Akaavi commented.  She shook her head and walked out, calling a ‘good night’ from the hallway. </p><p>“Precisely.  We’ve got the plan.  We just need to enact it.  It’ll take two days to prep everything and get to Coruscant.  I can take vacation in medbay.  And is it any different than if you hop me up with sedatives instead of a nice gin and tonic or a series thereof?”  Eva looked expectantly at the data pad. </p><p>Guss wordlessly handed the device back to Risha, who punched some information in.  After ten seconds, she scowled at it.  “Curse your barely-adequate education.”</p><p>“That’s a ‘yes’ if I ever heard one.”   Eva gestured to Bowie to go to the galley.  The Wookiee grumped at her for a second before leaving.  Guss waved and left for the night. </p><p>Risha turned to Corso.  “I’m done with the patient.  Can you make sure she takes her painkillers and doesn’t choke on her vomit in her sleep?”</p><p>“Yup.” </p><p>Risha wordlessly left medbay. </p><p>Eva took that to mean that she was going to be fine. </p><p>Corso shook his head as he cleared up the remains of the water glass.  “Always the same, Cap.  Plotting the next big thing.  And you say you don’t think about the future.”</p><p>Eva gave him a weak smile.  “It’s less than a week out.  It’s the present.” </p><p>Corso shook his head. “Ever the same.”  He sat down at the foot of her bed, not touching her.  “Been thinking about our talk yesterday – if you remember--?</p><p>“Yeah, I remember.  It’s after we landed at the port that I can’t figure.” </p><p>Corso crossed his arms.  “I used to think people changed, when I was younger. I used to think they did, when they found religion. I used to think a good man or a good woman made a difference.”  A beat. “I used to think I could change you or you change me.” </p><p>Eva held her tongue.  This was an explanation she wanted to hear before she died, and she was old enough to know she better not ruin it by running her mouth. </p><p> “I always knew what I always wanted.  For a long time, I lied to myself about whether I could get there with you.  Or maybe, you’d work your magic and then I’d want something you wanted.” </p><p>Eva blinked slowly as she thought of all those times she caught Corso looking at her as if she were a semi-mythical creature. </p><p>“People either lie to themselves more or tell the truth to themselves more as they get older.  I think I’m finally telling myself the truth.”  Corso and Eva looked at each other, eye to eye.  “I never changed, Eva.  I’m still wanting the same things I did when you picked me up off Ord Mantell.  The universe is a whole hell of a lot bigger and I got better ideas of what I want to do going forward.  But what I want in my future is still the same.”  A crooked smile crossed his face.  “Sumalee probably always knew she was a good kid at heart.  She… just didn’t see a way to go forward with it, so she lied. Lied that the life she had with Risha was good enough.  I still think Risha lies about what would make her happy.”</p><p>Eva bobbed her head once, too tired for anything else.  “I think there’s something lurking that’s lighter than any of us think, but – not our job to go digging for it.” </p><p>“No.  That’s the hard part, resisting that urge.”  Corso had a ghost of a frown on his face for a second, but it translated itself into a sad smile.  “The <em>hardest</em> part was realizing you never lied to me.  Or yourself.  That you and I would never –  That’s where I did my lying.”   </p><p>Eva grimaced.  “I’ve lied to myself, Corso.  We all do.  I just happen to pay for it more dearly than others, which is why I rarely do it.” </p><p>“When have you lied to yourself?”</p><p>“You <em>know</em>.  What has cost me the most?”  She hurt.  Badly. </p><p>Corso stared at her.  </p><p>Eva felt her eyes quietly flood.  The dread had crept in on her at Hoth, after <em>he</em> had chastised her for helping Alilia, after Guss mentioned that he was unaware of any connection between Rogun and the Voidwolf.  Then Belsavis, Ivory assured her he wanted Rogun dead and vice versa.  Then, on Voss, too many pieces fell together, her vision being key among them.  The revelation on Tatooine ---</p><p>Then Corellia.  Worst of all. </p><p>Corso repeated her words back to her, roughly.  “We <em>all</em> lie to ourselves.”</p><p>“We do.”  Her shoulder burned, paired with a raw, aching pain that radiated down to her elbow and across her back. </p><p>“But you never lied to me.”</p><p>“Correct,” her voice scraped out of her throat. </p><p>“Thanks... it’s long overdue.” </p><p>Bowie appeared in the doorway, a large gin and tonic in his hand.  “It’s the past, Corso, and you know me.  All about the present.”  She held out her right hand, and Corso helped her sit up.</p><p>“Friends?”</p><p>“Always.”</p><p>Bowdaar looked at her, not completely pleased with himself.  “You’re going to knock yourself into next week.  The medication warning labels are longer than <em>my</em> arm.”</p><p>Eva flexed her hand under Corso’s grasp.  “Bowdaar, I can’t – it’s better this way.  It’s excruciating.”</p><p>“And she’s never complained before,” Corso muttered to the Wookiee. </p><p>Bowdaar frowned, worried.  “I never liked being drugged like this.”</p><p>“Don’t make me pull the captain card on you, Bowie, just – just give your friend a drink.”   She reached and took the glass from his hand.  “See you on the other side.”  The gin went straight down her gullet, followed closely by the painkiller cocktail.</p><p>Corso quietly went to the medbay computer and synced her bio chip.  They could track her vitals while not disturbing her sleep. </p><p>Eva sensed the clouds beginning to form, diverting and distracting the pain that connected the remains of her shoulder to her brain.  Corso’s voice was ever distant. </p><p>As she lay back and pulled the covers over her head, she asked for music.  Whether the words came out of her mouth was a different question.  Bowdaar cued up an old playlist, mixed from old galactic transmissions, and she let the music swirl around her, guiding the brain’s electricity to better currents. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Disarmed</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Insurance companies and the human brain (including Theron's) file dismemberment under the category of 'death' rather than 'injury.'  Eva's reappearance is upsetting.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Theron was at his apartment when the Holonet message came through directly to his implants.   Initially, he ignored this message in favor of the holo stills provided by an ancient antiques dealer – the guy might have been older than the Republic itself.   Theron intently matched shapes to known Rakata designs, piecing together what else – beyond super soldiers – were the Revanites building. </p><p>It was fifteen or twenty minutes later when his back creaked in protest at being in such a position for so long that Theron got up and moved around.  He checked his refrigerator to see if anything had magically appeared since he last checked.  As he drank a glass of water, he checked his messages with his implants. </p><p>When he opened a particular message, his lips closed and the water sloshed back helplessly in the glass as he set it down on the countertop.  He stared at fixed point on the floor as he read the message that ran before his eyes.  It had been sent at maximum secrecy, maximum encryption.</p><p>
  <em>From: Virtue’s Thief</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Subject: Problem</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Attempt to 187 VH.  Meet tonight?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>-- EC </em>
</p><p>Coruscant Penal Code 187 was murder.</p><p>Someone had tried to murder the Voidhound. </p><p>Someone had tried to kill <em>her.</em> </p><p>His surge of panic was stunted by the fact she had signed the message herself.  Eva Corolastor was alive and likely incandescently angry about the transgression.  Theron composed a response in his head to send out.  It would not be as neat and clean as usual, but he wanted speed in this case. </p><p>
  <em>Where are you?  On Coruscant  – T.</em>
</p><p>Theron went to his bedroom where he pulled out his boots, socks, and a jacket.  He redressed himself to go outside.  There was only a moment of hesitation before he also grabbed his blaster holsters and attached them to his belt while he waited. </p><p>As he tightened the last strap, he received a hail from the <em>Thief.</em>  Unlike previous ones, this one was not just a beep or a computer voice. It was a request for a voice exchange.  Theron accepted without hesitation. </p><p>“Theron speaking.”</p><p>“Hey, it’s Eva.”</p><p>“Where are you?”</p><p>“Dealer’s Den.  I was afraid you wouldn’t get the message in time.”  He could hear the drone of the cantina behind her: the voices, the clink of glasses, and the trashy music they played for the strippers. </p><p>He grabbed his pass cards off the small table he had in his apartment entry foyer.  “In time for what?”</p><p>“I need to get moving.  Are you coming?”  Then, aside:  “Thanks. And I said no lime.” </p><p>“Yes, don’t leave,” he ordered her as he bolted out his door.  “I will see you when I get there – stay close to one of the bars.”</p><p>“What?  No, no thank you – smoking is a filthy habit.”  Someone was hassling her at the bar.  Theron jumped down most of the stairs and nearly punched through the exit of his apartment building.  “I’ll see you in a few minutes then.”</p><p>**</p><p>Theron scanned the edges of the Dealer’s Den for a familiar brunette head.  His eyes finally fell upon a figure standing near an exit to the back, deflecting the attentions of a fellow patron even as she finished drinking her customary Sullustan gin and tonic.  As worried as he was, he noticed there was something different.  In the times he had met with her, Eva had taken a very basic approach to her hair – up and out of the way, that was it.  Tonight, her glossy hair was styled as Risha Drayen would have done it.  More elegant, more neat.  That wasn’t normal. As she stepped away to <em>clearly</em> convey to the man she was not interested, Theron’s heart stopped.</p><p>The left sleeve of her coat was empty, pinned up to her shoulder so it would not snag.</p><p>Eva couldn’t do her own hair because --</p><p>The disciplined grip on his mind went careening off, as though it were a rider thrown by a horse.  Somehow, his gloves came off and were shoved into an interior pocket of his jacket. His strides toward the bar became quicker and longer, and that <em>idiot</em> needed to get away from her or he would--</p><p>
  <em>**</em>
</p><p>Finally, the moron took the hint and made his way away from Eva.  She shook her head.  Ass.</p><p>“Eva,” she heard Theron say before she turned to him.  Even though there was a horrified note in his voice, she was not prepared to see him as he was. </p><p>Theron stood at arms’ length, his entire body tense.  His eyes were wild as a combination of shock, guilt, and desperation paraded across his face.  His chest rose and fell unsteadily.  He opened his mouth as if to speak, but only air came out. </p><p>He completely distraught, she realized, because of her appearance.  Oh, the arm – she had to explain. </p><p>Eva tilted her head toward the door.  “Shall we?” </p><p>The subtle gesture was all it took for Theron to spend that frenetic energy.  He lurched toward her, and to her shock, he used his left hand to grab her by the waist.  He drew her right side – her good side -- flush to him and nearly dragged her the short distance to the door, flinging it open with his right hand.  There heard a momentary objection from the bartender as the door slammed shut behind them. </p><p>The cool night air and the darkness swallowed them up, and Theron’s face was briefly illuminated by a passing vehicle.  He looked like an animal, escaping from a predator.  He looked up and down the alley, twice, before using a hand at the small of her back to urge her ahead of him for about five meters.  Eva’s steps were cautious in the dark, despite his rushing.  Suddenly, the arm reappeared at her waist and he roughly pulled her into a doorway that was set in from the alley, turning her to face him. </p><p>Eva’s mind was reeling from the circumstances as they were, but the abrupt motion caused her an uncontrollable twinge of pain.  Her sharp cry punctured the ongoing drone of traffic and the other noises indigenous to an alley.  “Ah!  Gentle.” It was a tight fit – Eva was mindful of trying not to step on his feet and avoid slamming her left shoulder into the door. </p><p>As unexpected as Theron’s actions had been, so too was their cessation, punctuated by an equally shocking touch of his bare hand against the side of her face.  “I’m sorry,” he breathed unsteadily.  She felt his other hand firmly on her right hip, pushing it carefully to encourage her to step just a bit more to the left so that all of her was concealed in the doorway; a passerby would not see them so easily.  Eva shuffled inward, then resisted, pulling her face away from his hand. She could not be flush to the door as he was. </p><p>The second he felt her resistance, Theron stopped.  Eva, in turn, permitted her face to return to his hand – let that be his prize.  The running of a thumb across her cheekbone electrified her. She could feel the rough patches of skin from using his blasters– hers were similar, when she wasn’t mindful of them.  His palm was warm against her cheek. </p><p>Lights from passing speeders reflected down the alley, illuminating their faces inconsistently. His eyes.  Oh.  One of those.  The feelings ran deep, but it took a nasty shock to lure them out into the open.</p><p>In the same moment, apparently, Theron realized what he was doing and dropped his hand as if she were hot.  “What happened?” came his low voice, no less distressed than when he said her name earlier.</p><p>“Mando bounty hunters.  Three were sent.  Two are dead.  Akaavi is dealing with the third.   Everyone else is fine,” she hastily said. </p><p>A flicker of light, and Theron’s frown reached her eyes.  “What about you?  What happened <em>to you</em>?” </p><p>Eva reached with her right arm and started undoing her coat.  “Shot, high velocity blaster rifle.  It was not pleasant.”  She exposed her left shoulder, which was immobilized under her clothes, and her left hand, braced over in a set position against her chest. “Soft tissue is going to be fine thanks to some military kolto I acquired, but it did a number on my nerves. Bones and cartilage will be another few weeks, but I might take a few kolto dips to hurry it up. I’ll be out of this contraption tomorrow or the day after, but no personal combat for awhile.”  She redraped the coat over herself, but her braced hand was now exposed.</p><p>Another brief flash of light, and Theron’s relieved gaze was fixed on the still attached arm and hand.  As the light faded, his face fell.  In the darkness between vehicles, Eva felt Theron touch the flesh of her left hand with exploring fingers.  She flexed her fingers back to grasp at his thumb she knew was nearby.  By the next light, Eva’s left hand had fully captured Theron’s right thumb, his fingers resting on the back of that hand, light, almost frightened of applying any pressure.  “Still in one piece,” she reminded him.</p><p>“You were <em>shot</em>,” he said, voice rough.</p><p>Eva’s lip uncontrollably curled back – she found it darkly funny.  “I’ve been shot more than the family holo cam and stabbed more than a politician in a tragedy play.  This is not new to me.” </p><p>The speeders lights revealed that Theron looked overwhelmed and profoundly unhappy at what he heard.  As he spoke, the lights faded away.  “That doesn’t make this any better.”  Finally, Eva felt a small amount of pressure on her hand. “When?  Where?”</p><p>“Three nights ago.”</p><p>Theron’s brows knit together.  “Why did you wait to come to me?”</p><p>Eva averted her eyes and cheekily answered, “That goes with where: the most remote Intergalactic House of Pancakes ever -- also why I didn't bother with the vest.  Then I was off somewhere in another dimension for two days, combination of military grade kolto, painkillers, and some nice gin.  I tasted noises and felt colors.  It was great.”  She smiled bright in the darkness. </p><p>“<em>Eva</em>.”  Her eyes shifted back to him – Theron looked agonized, but there were finally some signs of annoyance toward her cavalier attitude.  Good.  She preferred him to be pissed at her than completely beside himself</p><p>Eva resumed the information convoy.  “They called me Voidhound.  Not by my name.”</p><p>Theron pressed his lips together in thought.  Then he spoke, quickly and quietly.  “I never conveyed to Darok your name.  He asked for it, never gave it.”</p><p>Eva considered for a moment before answering.  “Still recognized me outside the Voidhound costume.  The bounty puck came from Dromund Kaas, specifically the Citadel.  Corso is reverse-engineering it, and Akaavi is doing her own investigation.” </p><p>Theron frowned, deeply.  “I can’t see this as anything but a strike against you for your involvement in this op.”</p><p>“Then the war’s begun.  And I can live with that.”  Theron’s eyes narrowed at her statement.  To clarify, she added, “There’s no more question as to ‘are they or aren’t they.’  I can cope with an answer.  The ambiguity was killing me.”</p><p>Theron sardonically supplied, “So you drank yourself into a medicated oblivion because you knew they wanted to kill you, and you were <em>happy</em> about knowing.”</p><p>Eva gave him her best coprophagous grin.  “Knowledge is power.  No more uncertainties.  No more running short on sleep for months on end.  And it ended with a hell of a trip.”</p><p>Theron groaned and appealed to his local deity.  “You’re going to kill yourself and take me with you through the stress.” </p><p>“What?”  She felt the grin reduce in intensity as Theron grew more morose.</p><p>“I got you into this mess. In some ways, Darok was right.  I should have cut you loose after Tython.  Instead, you’re running my high-risk ops.”  She felt his right hand flex in her grip. “I can do those myself.  I <em>should</em> do those myself.”</p><p>Eva cut in.  “You can’t do it all alone.  That’s why you brought me in.  And the Sith.  And Jakarro.  Too much work, not enough hands.”</p><p>“Lana and I are intel – this is our career.  Jakarro is out for revenge, and I agree with your assessment about not standing between a Wookiee and a quarrel.”  Oh, he did hear that.  Whoops. “But you don’t need to be doing my ops and getting shot for it.”</p><p>Ugh, he was going to torture himself over this.  Eva shook her head.  “No, I got myself shot. Do you keep forgetting that I say ‘yes’ to you whenever you ask, ‘are you sure?’  And did you forget how much of an ass I was to Darok?”   Theron’s lips pulled back slightly, remembering.  “I will find the person on the other end of the bounty puck.  I will destroy them. I’m not getting out of this game until I do.”</p><p>Theron’s voice was like gravel as he objected again.  “I shouldn’t have gotten you into this game in the first place –”</p><p>“Why did you, then?”  Eva snapped.  “Tell me.  Why the invitation over drinks?”</p><p>In the transient darkness, Eva could feel Theron’s hand tense.  “You were a neutral.  You have a track record.  We saw the same things.  We were upset about the same things.  I thought we’d work well together —” </p><p>“Then don’t beat yourself up about this.  Because it’s true.  All of it.”  Eva rolled her right shoulder.  “Your assessment is correct.  It’s why I’m in this.  You’re good at your job, and you know it.  Why are you upset that I’m acting as you predicted in your intel analysis of me?” </p><p>Of course, he had a pile of information on her – he was an idiot if he didn’t. </p><p>Impulsively, she reached up to stroke the side of his face, where the yellow lights occasionally danced. “It’s not your fault I’m me,” she said, as she caught sight of Theron’s face responding to the sudden gesture of affection. </p><p>Initially, he looked as if she had done something far more risqué but after the shock wore off, a tremble went through him.  It was like a well-placed shield disrupter. A single pulse, a single point of contact, and the defenses fell away.  He stepped in closer to her.  Eva jumped slightly as she felt a warm hand come up to the right side of her face, but she immediately relaxed after the initial surprise.</p><p>“I’m upset because I can’t afford to lose you.  There’s no one else for this,” he said in the darkness.</p><p>Like her words on the dock, the sentence could have multiple meanings.  “For this mission -- you don’t have any other high-quality assets you can trust?”  She offered him the out. </p><p>“I need <em>you</em>,” Theron answered sharply.  Even with the beskar in his voice, his professional façade did not immediately return. </p><p>Eva felt a stronger pressure on her left hand than she had before.  His left thumb traced her cheekbone, identical to his earlier action on the left side of her face.  He rejected the out. </p><p>New game, Eva decided.</p><p>She wanted another drink to celebrate.</p><p>Eva squeezed his thumb again.  Eva let her dark eyes settle on his olive-gold ones.  She let herself linger for a moment, then said, “Friends then?  Real ones, not euphemisms for business partners or handlers and assets.” </p><p>Theron’s fingers drummed across the back of her hand.  “The difference?”</p><p>“Friends care whether the other person is alive.”  The words came out less robust than she’d wanted.  There was more vulnerability in her voice than she wanted. Her face was likely broadcasting.   </p><p>“Yes.”  A weight seemed to be lifted off of Theron.  “You’re not high-quality cannon fodder.”  A minor wave of discomfort seemed to wash over him, but his mood brightened overall. </p><p>That’s how she had likely started.  But apparently, his estimation of her had risen…</p><p>She’d take it. </p><p>Theron was making it hard for her to think right now, the tender motion of his thumb gnawing at her sanity. The feeling was likely mutual; she saw how he reacted to her hands on his temple.  “You need to watch yourself.  You need to warn Lana and Jakarro to watch themselves.”</p><p>Theron nodded.  “I’ll send the necessary message.”</p><p>“And I need a favor.”  Eva believed in fair play. She steadied herself by migrating her hand from Theron’s temple to his shoulder and gently squeezing it. </p><p>Theron’s olive-gold eyes blinked.  “For what?”  He got the hint – not a reproach but a need to focus.  His left hand drifted to the wall beside her head, but his right still rested on her left. </p><p>“Things.”  The answer was clipped. </p><p>“Things where?”</p><p>“…Imp space….”</p><p>“What sort of things?” Theron pressed.</p><p>“Things that will make the Republic happy?” she offered, only somewhat sincerely.</p><p>Theron let out a slow breath.  “Unsure whether I should come along or stay away for my sanity.”</p><p>Eva had batted the idea around in her head, multiple times.  “That would depend whether or not you like having plausible deniability in connection to one of my home-cooked schemes.” </p><p>“Oh, it’s one of those,” Theron mockingly groaned.  He still seemed very interested, however.</p><p>“Personally, you’re my pick, followed closely by T3,” Eva clarified. “It is slicing work, and you would have a <em>fantastic</em> time of it.”</p><p>Theron picked out two flaws that foiled her suggestion.  “But I might be missed, if it drags on for too long. Not to mention the opportunity to take out two of us at the same time, if things go really wrong.”</p><p>“You can be a real killjoy, Shan.” </p><p>Theron rolled his eyes at her.  “T3 might be the better option anyway – he is faster, and he would not be missed.  Most people don’t even notice him.”</p><p>“Poor thing.” </p><p>
  <em>CRASH</em>
</p><p>Eva felt her heart leap into her throat as a cacophony rose up from the alley behind them.  Instinctively, Theron freed his right hand from her grasp and pulled her into his chest, turning them so that his body was exposed to whatever was in the alley.  “Hey! You!” </p><p>Eva felt his left arm cross her back, and she heard him unlatch the holster on his right leg so he could pull and fire if needed.  She ducked her head under his chin, trying to obscure her face.  A light shone down the alley, and she peered up from her place in Theron’s shadow.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. The Unrequited Life, Part I</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Theron has a crisis of conscience.  He explains.  Eva listens.  A card game is scheduled at an indeterminate date.  </p><p>Or, headcanon!Theron issues, hashed out.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A light shone down the alley, and she peered up from her place in Theron’s shadow.  “Hey, is your girl going to pay for her drink?”</p><p>Both of them let a breath of relief out and relaxed.  Then they immediately tried to physically sort themselves into some semblance of “lovers in an alley” rather than “agents on a mission entering a blaster flight.”  As Theron’s right arm came up to hold her, he looked up into the light.  “Yeah, sorry.  Had to talk to her about something…”  Eva’s right hand snaked upward to stroke the side of his face. </p><p>“She all right?”  The bouncer had noticed her empty sleeve and was shining the light right on it. </p><p>“Bad speeder accident.  Glad she’s ok.”  Eva felt Theron press his lips to her hairline, unprovoked. </p><p>She knew he was pretending.  She enjoyed the feeling anyway. </p><p>The bouncer was a good one – unfortunately for them.  “Hey, lady, are you ok?  Is that your boyfriend?” </p><p>Eva began to shake with controlled laughter.  Theron made a grumbling noise, which only made her situation worse.  She had to hurry up and answer, regardless.  “Yeah, he’s mine.”  She popped her head up over Theron’s arm so that the bouncer could see her better.  “Overprotective, right?”</p><p> “Yeah.  You sure you’re good?” </p><p>Eva looked at Theron’s face, and it was almost a fatal mistake.  He was losing it too, trying not to laugh.   “Yeah.”  </p><p>“Then one of you needs to get your ass in here and pay that tab.”</p><p>“Right.” </p><p>Theron let Eva extract herself from his embrace, and she went to pass him to head back into the cantina. But then he stopped her with a press of his body into hers on the alley wall. In a voice dripping with insinuation, Theron told her, “Why don’t you run along home and wait for me, darling?  Pick up the droid on the way.”</p><p>Eva wasn’t sure if she would die of hilarity or desire. Leave it to them to make a ridiculous situation even more so, with latent domestic fantasies.  “You got it.”  Eyes open, she tilted her head so that the column of her throat was exposed to him.  Then she let her eyes shut, giving him the full illusion of a submissive young thing.  Eva heard Theron’s breath catch, but then he quickly pushed a passcard into her hands.  When she opened her eyes, he was disappearing back into the Dealer’s Den. </p><p>Eva looked down at the passcard.  It was his work ID.  T3 was at SIS headquarters, apparently.  Right.  Back to business.</p><p>Eva quickly walked down the alley and hailed a cab to take her to Theron’s office. </p><p>**</p><p>Theron counted the tram stops.  Not as many as usual.  It was an entirely different line than usual, however.  His head was still spinning from the events earlier. </p><p>He’d broken so many goddamn rules.  Not SIS rules – those were lax and grey on a good day.  His rules.  His standards. </p><p>And worst of all, he <em>liked it</em>.  He was <em>happy</em> when she called him her friend.  He enjoyed her touch, and most dangerously, he liked touching her, knowing she was alive and breathing and not dead somewhere in a chain restaurant space dock. <em>I need you </em> – gods almighty, why did he say that out loud?  He shouldn’t have--</p><p>And then the bouncer.  One more layer of abject chaos threw them into the strange world of playacting.  And he’d –</p><p>He shouldn’t have gone any further than holding her.  Friends hugged each other, he supposed.</p><p>Instead, he’d kissed her on her head– chaste as it had been, as incidental, and as natural as it would have been if they had been a couple, it was completely unacceptable to his professional code.</p><p>Then, he chose to relay their next step in the most lascivious voice – he didn’t even <em>know </em>where that came from.  He’d never used his voice like that on the job.  He had clear professional boundaries.  He’d chastised himself after the intimate tone came out over coffee with his asset, Eva – part of the reason that meeting was behind a locked door now, in his mind. </p><p>Her response – more playacting.  But.  He hadn’t wanted it to be fake.  And he hadn’t wanted to be a good man at all when she gave him her neck.</p><p>Hell, he’d even chosen the word “darling” because Darmas had called her “sweetheart,” according to sources close to the pair.  Theron was silently horrified at himself for such a deliberate, conscious choice, as if he was trying --</p><p>He hated using love-play in ops.  Many of his cohorts enjoyed it, egged each other on in it, and kept scorecards.  Theron’s lack of participation and enthusiasm for the topic had resulted in Balkar bestowing upon him the title of “Prude.”  He had likely sent over the most compromising footage of Theron’s asset.  It pissed Theron off.  It didn’t help his case.  It didn’t tell him anything about her that <em>he</em> needed to know about. </p><p>Last stop, time to get off the tram and get to headquarters.  He didn’t want her getting picked up for loitering outside of a government building. </p><p>As Theron walked toward the non-descript office building, he used his implants to kill the security holos. </p><p>Now, where was she? </p><p>As he walked past an alley, he heard her voice.  He stopped in his tracks, bracing himself for a deserved good hard slap.  It didn’t come.  He heard her foot falls and the uneven motion of her coat before she finally appeared in front of him. “Run along home and wait for me, darling?”  she asked incredulously.  He opened his eyes to see the near hysterical amusement running across her face.  It reminded him that he had almost exploded with a cackle as the bouncer asked if he was her --</p><p>He answered her, “Did you pick up the droid?”</p><p>There was only a single beat of silence before Eva burst into loud, raucous laughter.  She actually slid down to her knees, which pulled him from his anxiety-ridden edge between humor and despair.  He laughed until his gut hurt.  They probably looked like a pair of strung-out drunks.  Thank the Stars he’d cut the security holos. </p><p>As their laughter subsided, even as he was wiping tears and still struggling with the occasional chuckle, Theron managed to connect with T3 and tell him to come downstairs.  “He’s on his way down.”</p><p>Eva leaned herself against the building, giggles still escaping her.  “Good.  Oh, by the gods, that was awful and funny at the same time.  The Dealer’s Den did improve their employment practices – bless that bouncer.”  She wheezed slightly as she drew herself up to stand again.  “Imagine him, thinking you were a bad man in an alley.”</p><p>The honesty leaked out of him before he could stop it.  “He wouldn’t be wrong.”</p><p>Her giggling tapered off abruptly.  Initially, she just seemed confused and tried to decode his face, his words, to – then she finally caught on.  Eva looked at him, exasperated.  “Are you seriously feeling guilty about ‘taking advantage of me’?  With a whole kiss to the forehead and a remarkably sexy voice you’ve been withholding from me?” </p><p>Theron froze.</p><p>When she put it like that, his internal grinding did seem…overdone.  But it was more than that.  She was owed an explanation.  Theron sometimes forgot that his logic was not obvious. </p><p>But where to even start? </p><p>He ran a hand over his face. He could feel those dark eyes upon him, curious and silent.</p><p>Bench.  Bench would be a good idea.  T3 arriving and him saving him from his feelings would also be great.  But til then, bench. </p><p>He looked around the plaza.  He found a bench.  Great. Bench. Moving toward the bench.  He checked once to make sure Eva was following him, and she was.  Good.  Not losing her was good.  Actually, it was preferred.  Erk.  This again.</p><p>Theron sat down on the non-descript bench under a non-descript tree in the non-descript plaza that surrounded the non-descript office building that housed SIS.  He was waiting for his not-so-non-descript droid.</p><p>Non-descript had no place anywhere near Captain Eva Corolastor.  Maybe when she was working to hide.  But as herself – no, nowhere near. She sat next to him, coat carefully rebuttoned and rearranged, covering her arm in the cool night air. </p><p>Theron started to speak three times.  He failed each time.  The words weren’t right. </p><p>Eva didn’t interrupt.  She didn’t try to prompt him. The deck of cards was in his hands.  She couldn’t play until he dealt.  She didn’t put on her cardplayer’s mask, but she was entirely still, no fidgeting or sign of impatience about her.</p><p>Theron appreciated that.</p><p>“Work is my life.”  That was true.  “I am a good man.  I’m not a crooked cop.”  That part came out a lot more forceful than he expected.  “I don’t think agents should try to personally benefit from their cases.  Their assets.”  That was uncomfortable and vague, but he hoped she got what he meant.  In case she didn’t: “Like bad men in alleys.” </p><p>Now she was set in motion, turning toward him to object.  “Theron, that wasn’t what happened – trust me, I’d have an opinion about it if it did.”  There was a darkly amused look on her face.  No, that was hedging more toward another a-word that he was going to skip right over so he could get through this. </p><p>“But I did touch you.  That’s not supposed to happen.  And the things that happened later –” Theron grimaced.  “And that’s another problem.”  These words came in a speedy rush, and he tried to navigate his way through the rapids.  “I don’t do well with relationships.  With anyone.  Work is work, and it <em>is</em> SIS.  People die regularly in the line of duty.  SIS outranks dates and flings.  My biological parents …live dangerous lives, and I have limited, but complicated attachments to them.”</p><p>There was only minor head movement when he mentioned his parents, a small adjustment to see him better, to try to read him better.  Eva was being obvious about it – she hid nothing from him.  She didn’t say anything.  She already knew part of the secret anyway, so Theron threw himself headlong into it.  “I met my mother when I was 23.  I knew of her my entire life.  I met my father just over two years ago.  That was a new development.” </p><p>Theron looked at her.  There was no gaping, no bulging of eyes, no shock.  She was absorbing information. </p><p>Eva raised a single finger from her bound left half that peeked out of the top of her coat.  She waited for him to recognize her.  “You were raised as a Jedi.  They frown upon attachments.”  She arched an eyebrow at him.  “Yes, I actually did read something about that life after you mentioned it – and I asked Guss, who is a remarkably candid source in that department.” </p><p>Theron could just imagine, and he actually managed an authentic laugh at that thought. </p><p>“You know you’re allowed to have attachments now that you’ve been out,” Eva stated flatly. “But you struggle anyway.”</p><p>Theron’s interest was piqued at her tone.  Not, ‘you know, you’re <em>allowed</em> to have attachments’ as if he were a dumbass.  Yes, he academically knew he could – and she acknowledged that. </p><p>“You date?” she asked.  “In general.  This is not a fishing expedition,” she quickly reassured him.</p><p>“Too many hours at the office.  But yeah.  Doesn’t last long.” </p><p>“Friends?”</p><p>“Yes.  Many from the office.  Some are more resilient than others.  Then there are those, I think, that are punishment for the bad things I’ve done.”   Jonas Balkar. </p><p>Now she laughed at him, just a little. “How many sick days and vacation days do you have banked?” </p><p>Theron shook his head.  “I think I can start counting in years.”</p><p>“Hobbies?”</p><p>Theron blinked.  “I like technology.  Anything new on the market is of interest to me.”  He thought.  “I like learning underworld tech and tricks.  Intel.”  He paused.  “I used to compete in swoop bike racing.”   He pulled up the sleeve of his coat.  There was a hook-shaped scar across the back of his left wrist. Eva bowed her head slightly to look at it.   “Broke after I collided with a median.  Other guy’s fault, of course.” </p><p>“Still do it?”</p><p>Theron looked at his wrist for another moment, then covered it up.  “No time anymore.”</p><p>Eva regarded him, eyes tranquil.  “To mimic a droid I had as a child -- Observation:  work is your life.”</p><p>“I already told you that. I meant it.” </p><p>She shifted her gaze to the office building.  “Extrapolation:  you’ve made your SIS career a surrogate Jedi order.”</p><p>Theron felt the lockpick being applied to the door, something slipping in between his ribs, prying him open.  Her approach, her tone, her touch was so careful it thwarted his indignance, his deflection, his anger, his security.  “I have high standards,” he said.</p><p>“Absolute devotion to your job.” Eva remained focused on the building.  “Your connections, social attachments, and hobbies ---”</p><p>“Are useful.”  Theron’s thoughts wandered to Teff’ith.  He wondered how she was doing, not that she wanted him to think of her at all. “For the most part.  I do have connections beyond SIS and the Jedi.”</p><p>Eva noncommittally used her right hand to adjust her coat.  “But I would wager they all link back to one of the two.  And they are limited in number.”</p><p>Teff’ith and Master Zho.  Teff’ith and the Sun Razer.  Teff’ith and his parents. Teff’ith and the Ascendant Spear. He answered, “Anything else is excessive and not the point.  Outside influences can compromise me and what I need to do.” </p><p>Accidentally, Teff’ith had fallen into being a personal influence; she could not be considered ‘outside,’ after everything that had happened, even despite her own protestations.  He could keep Teff’ith around in his heart and mind.  It helped that Teff’ith had wanted nothing to do with him. </p><p>That was an ugly pattern in his personal relationships, wasn’t it. </p><p>If it wasn’t mutual, was it really an attachment?  Having unrequited feelings on one end or the other meant that the connection wasn’t securely anchored.  It didn’t count. </p><p>“Outside influences are not things to be integrated into your life, your order.” She paused.  “At worst, they are threats to be eliminated – cut out -- so you can do what you do.” </p><p>That was the truth.  It had not been stated or formulated as such.  The door opened.</p><p>“It is an order of one,” Theron reluctantly confirmed.  “You cause problems, even as a friend.” <em>Because that would be a mutual connection outside the bounds. </em>“At the end of it, the Republic always wins.  If there is a choice between you and the mission, there is no question.  Ever.” </p><p>Eva tilted her head back, as if to look at the night sky.  On Coruscant, it was impossible to see any stars due to light pollution.  Theron knew she saw nothing.  “So as this gets more dangerous, if it comes down to the successful destruction of this conspiracy or my life—”</p><p>“There is no question,” Theron repeated himself.  “Anything beyond business with you seems like a lie. Not to mention it’s a cruel joke to play on myself.  So I won’t.” </p><p>With her eyes still transfixed upward, Eva repeated his words again, “You’re a good man.” </p><p>Theron had nothing to say to that. </p><p>Eva broke off her intense conversation with the invisible stars to look directly at him.  “Now I know your rules. Deal me in when you want to start the game.”  She rose to her feet. </p><p>Theron stared at her as she crossed in front of him to stand, her left sleeve flapping; the pin had been lost at some point during the night. “What?”</p><p> “Good gambling establishments don’t deal in people who don’t know the rules of the game.  Saves them a lot of trouble.  Spares a lot of misery.  I know the rules.  I know the risk.  Deal.”</p><p>Theron gripped the edges of the bench as he looked up at her.  He must have looked wretched.  Eva was serene.  Little wonder, Theron realized:  she had prepared herself for war on all fronts. </p><p>His thoughts were distracted by the arrival of excited beeping.  “T3,” he heard himself say.  “She has a job for you.”</p><p>Eva put a hand on the droid but her eyes were on him.  “You sure?” she asked, gently.</p><p>“It’d be cruel to disappoint him now,” Theron said, as lightly as he could.  Eva gave him her smile, and he was done for the night – he was exhausted.  “I got work in the morning.” </p><p>“T3 = happy.”  The little droid rocked back and forth.</p><p>Theron finally got to his feet.  “You behave,” he gently admonished the droid.   “And you – stay in one piece.”  He let his eyes linger over her for a moment.</p><p>Eva fractionally nodded her head. “You got it.”</p><p>At those words, he sighed and could not help but laugh.  He saw that devilish smile forming on her, and he had to turn away.  “Good night!” he called out as he walked away, not looking back at the pair.  The late night trams were still running.</p><p>It was after he transferred to the second tram that the stupid, inexplicable grin came upon him.  The same one he wore on the way home from Republic Fleet, the first time he bought her a drink.  He belatedly realized that he had bought her a second this evening.  And she only drank when she was happy. </p><p>This was so dumb, he thought as he climbed into his bed, still wearing that stupid grin and little else. </p><p>It wasn’t until morning that Theron realized that Eva had never told him what she needed T3 for. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Curtain Up</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Theron attempts to unravel what exactly is his asset is doing to take out the Imp Stock Exchange.  Meanwhile, Eva drinks, snacks, and moonlights in her makeshift-torture chamber.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>It's the end of the semester, and I'm on the grading end of things.  To keep from being distracted, I'll post today and after the grading process is over early next week.   Hope everyone out there is doing well, especially if you're continuing to self-isolate after things are "open."  Please drop a comment if you feel like you want/need to chat. As always, feel free to let me know what you think so far.  </p><p>As far as music goes:  Tom Jones works really well for this chapter, as does any upbeat electro-swing mix.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Shan.  Are you running an op?”</p><p>Theron pulled himself out of the file he was reading to respond to the voice in his head.  “Director Trant.  No.”  Rapidly blinking ensued as Theron’s eyes adjusted to the lighting in the open SIS office space rather than the paging Holonet file that he had been focused on through his implants.  He leaned back in his desk chair as he tried to re-calibrate to where he was, when he was.  Last night had been a late one. </p><p>“You sure?”  Trant sounded suspicious.</p><p>“I’m here.”  Theron couldn’t be running an op if he was here in Coruscant, right? </p><p>“That doesn’t mean anything,” Trant said, as if reading Theron’s mind through his implants.</p><p>Maybe Eva had a point after all.</p><p>“Let me rephrase that:  what would make you think I’m running an op at this moment?”</p><p>“The Imperial Stock Exchange is doing some strange things, and it’s rattling our informants.  Our end is being asked whether Technoplague is responsible.”</p><p>Technoplague was the Empire’s code name for an SIS asset that may have been responsible for the deaths of two successive heads of the Imperial Sphere of Technology.  Unbeknownst to the Empire, that happened to be Theron. Theron felt that stupid grin threatening to come across his face as two of the major pieces fell together.  Not on the job – he warded off the emotion from his face.  “No, not him.  Mind if I take a look at some of our observational data?”</p><p>“I’ve piped a few streams into Board Room 3.  Transmissions out of there are untraceable and encrypted.” Trant cut the conversation before Theron could say anything. </p><p>That gave Theron some leeway to make calls and check on a few things as needed.  But first, what, in name of the Original Light, was happening on Dromund Kaas?</p><p>Theron entered the room and as the door slid shut behind him, he was greeted with images of a market going through some sharp spikes and declines, only to reset back at the day's original starting point.  There were newscaster talking heads from Imp television, but Theron ignored them for now.  He pulled out his datapad and quickly traced the source of exchange instability to the slave market.</p><p>Slave market?  That… did not sound like her. Theron mentally disconnected the two puzzle pieces he had forced together initially and put them to the side.  He sat down in a chair at the end of a conference table and watched the market churn for a few minutes as he waited for the event analysis for the day to load into his pad. </p><p>Approximately two hours ago, at 1100 hours Dromund Kaas time, there was a posting of slave chain codes for low prices on the market.  Those were snatched up pretty quickly, but it also pulled other prices downward.  Not long after 1300 hours, a second batch of these codes had been posted.  Three or four different companies were doing the posting, seemingly competing with each other.  This was contributing to the slave market prices dipping, which was being reflected in the overall Imperial Stock Exchange.  There were a few slave codes left from this batch, but not many; most had been purchased and reposted at higher prices. </p><p>Theron’s question was where these slaves were coming from.  There were no newly conquered planets that would be the sources of these slaves.  Theron set parameters to search for recent obituaries and reports of death that would somehow explain a large number of slaves entering the market at such low prices.  The price, the number of codes, and the timing suggested to him that there was at least one more drop to come, probably before the market closed at 1700 hours Dromund Kaas time. </p><p>By this point, it was already 1600 Coruscant time; the Republic ran a couple of hours ahead of the Empire.  The final drop would likely occur at 1500 Dromund Kaas, 1700 Coruscant, end of business for Theron.</p><p>Why the fire sale?  Why the rush?  Fast credits, obviously. The sellers seemed more keen to get the slaves out of their hands than making maximum profit.  Why were they too hot to handle?  Theron sliced into the slave market network and set off a few pre-programmed scripts.  Where did the money go after a sale from one of these companies?  What happened at certain times, at certain moments in the market?  And was it directly tied to the Imp Stock Exchange? </p><p>Theron flagged the companies and waited for an anticipated final slave code drop on the market.  He consulted his chrono.  There was at least an hour before the last drop, unless those last stragglers went and the companies replenished their stock on the slave market.  That would make sense, if they wanted to finish business and flush their accounts before the end of business. </p><p>It was too much of a coincidence that this was happening the night after his asset asked for a favor and a droid.  However, the slave trade was something she did not dabble in.  This would have been massively inconsistent for her character.  Unless…</p><p>Unless there was something else.  A piece of information Theron was missing. </p><p>Or he had erred in his assessment of her character and business practices, and she’d deliberately misled him, Rogun, Ivory, and who knows how many other business partners.  Honestly, Theron would have been pretty disappointed.  He had once specialized in busting slavery rings.</p><p>
  <em>“You’re good at your job, and you know it.”</em>
</p><p>Her words surfaced, uninvited but no less useful.  Assume he was right so far.  What—</p><p>Motivations.  Revenge.  Obviously.  She wanted to destroy her enemies, who hired Mandos out of the Citadel.  She was likely attempting to punch <em>way</em> above her weight without endangering her crew.  How could she do that?  What would revenge on a market look like when it involved slaves?</p><p>Why was T3 necessary?  Wait.  Why was <em>he </em>necessary, as in her initial offer?  What was a computer or a slicer good for in this? </p><p>His chain of thought was interrupted by his datapad, which provided him some new intel on the companies posting the slave codes.  They were all shells, all going back to the same accounts that were transferring the money out to externals every few minutes to keep them under the legally protected cap.  The externals were – everywhere.  Literally – Pub, Imp, Hutt, Port Nowhere.  Somewhere along the line, however, the money was being reconciled and disappeared into some private cache somewhere.  It was a waste to trace the money back – he knew where it all was going anyway. </p><p>The money was moving fast, likely facilitated by some helpful slicing, but that could have been done by one of her motley crew with intermediate skills.  Theron wasn’t arrogant – he was an excellent slicer.  And T3 made up for any lack of refined skill or sentient improvisation with speed.  What needed that?</p><p>What assumptions had he made that could unravel all of this?</p><p>The culprit was the first assumption.  Everything went out if that was not correct.  Theron had the resources to confirm this, so there was no reason why he had to agonize over <em>that</em> aspect. </p><p>Theron checked and rechecked the messaging protocols.  Clear on all ends.  Nobody could hack in, and nobody could trace it.  The door was locked.  As a precaution – because one never knew with smugglers or this one in particular – Theron shuttered the windows.</p><p>Theron hailed the <em>Thief</em>.  It took awhile for the hail to ping back.  They were off and away somewhere.  Definitely nowhere near here anymore.  There was a faster way.  Theron sent off a message to T3. </p><p>The little droid replied back in tiny robotic delight.  “T3 = helpful!”</p><p>“I bet.  Where are you?”</p><p>“T3 = unknown.  SIS tracker = disabled.  T3 = hooked up to non-Republic terminals.  T3 = safe!”</p><p>Theron let out a tight, solitary, “Ha.”  Clever. “Show me – and let them know.”</p><p>The holo image finally flickered to life, T3 acting as an impromptu holo comm. </p><p>What a scene. </p><p>The lounge of the ship had been decorated.  There were streamers, balloons, and confetti scattered everywhere.  Theron could hear music playing competing with Imperial newscasts on the holoterminal; it sounded like the stuff they played in upscale, posh drinking establishments that Theron – even as an SIS man – couldn’t get into.  On the floor Corso was working diligently on the bounty puck, occasionally turning his head to watch Imp holo casts that were being ported into the main holoterminal in the lounge.  He had a beer and a plate of something not far from him, which he was apparently picking at in between attempts to crack the puck without having it self-destruct.  At the main table, Theron could see Risha Drayen…</p><p>Giggling.  Almost hysterically.  She was staring down at a datapad and then looking up at the holoterminal, fits of laughter in between glances. </p><p>Beside Risha was the ringleader herself, Eva Corolastor, back in her off-duty uniform, seemingly:  shirt, vest, trousers, boots.  Her feet were kicked up on the table.  Although one arm was still braced, the other was free to have a solid grip around the neck of a wine bottle. Her smile was radiant, but even through the holo, he could tell she was waiting for something.  She said something to Risha, who grabbed a matching bottle.  They toasted and drank directly from the bottles.  They looked a pair of cats who’d gotten their respective canaries.</p><p>And that wine looked really expensive. </p><p>“It’s you, isn’t it.”  That was a statement.  Judging from the state of things and T3’s cheery reply, he didn’t really have to pose it as a question.</p><p>Eva, apparently, was well into that bottle of wine.  “Hello, darling,” she purred at him. </p><p>
  <em>Oh, wow.</em>
</p><p>As his eyebrows climbed his forehead, Risha giggled. “Look at all these credits!”   She cackled at the datapad and held it out to Theron – as if he could see her screen through the holo. </p><p>Eva put the wine bottle down long enough to gently force Risha to lower the pad. “Easy there.  Nothing <em>too</em> self-incriminating on the comms, please.”   Eva shook her head as Risha went back to enjoying the data privately. </p><p>When Eva had put her bottle down, Theron had managed to get a look at the label.  “That’s Crème d’Infame,” he stated with a bit of wonder.  It was the most expensive wine in the galaxy– but rumored to be worth every penny.</p><p>Eva nodded.  “We bought two cases for the occasion.”</p><p>Theron had to ask.  “And what’s the occasion?”</p><p>“I’m not dead! Isn’t that wonderful enough?”  She took another sip of her beverage.</p><p>“Typically, yes, but given the amount of chaos I’m seeing on the Imperial Stock Exchange, I’m guessing there are a few other things in play here.” </p><p>Eva flashed him a coquettish glance as she swallowed her wine.  No verbal response. </p><p>Risha jumped in.  “She’s rich.  I’m rich, everyone one here is rich!”  She was momentarily somber.  “You could have been rich, too, Theron.”</p><p>“I bet.” Theron watched as Eva watched the main holoterminal carefully.  She was waiting for something.  “I thought you didn’t deal in the slave trade.”</p><p>“We don’t,” Risha answered brightly and then she tumbled back down into a fit of giddiness over the amount of money pouring in. </p><p>The song blasting over the <em>Thief’s</em> speakers ended, leaving only some of the newscast chatter.  In the lull, Theron’s ears picked up something that sounded suspiciously like a scream, then a man’s sobbing.</p><p>Louder, a door flung open somewhere in the ship.  “Captain.” Akaavi was calling for her, following shortly by a burbling, jagged “no” from some unseen –</p><p>The third assassin.  Eva had mentioned Akaavi was taking care of him. </p><p>Eva’s flirtatious look dissipated… but only a bit.  “You remember what we said about plausible deniability?” She looked right at Theron through the holo comm. It was funny how something so small and bright could cast such a long, dark shadow.  </p><p>Theron nodded, hearing another shriek distantly, the door having been closed and the next song coming on the ship’s speakers, more swinging tunes from a bygone era.</p><p>“Well, give me a call back about 1530 Dromund Kaas time.  We’ll have some fun together.  I need to help Akaavi with something.  Bye, darling.”  Eva gestured with her bottle hand to T3, who obediently cut the signal.</p><p>Theron stood in the quiet for a moment. So they had made their money and would continue to generate more of it with the 1500 drop.  But she had one final coupe de grace, and it wasn’t what was about to happen to that unfortunate bounty hunter.  What was it?  How could Risha say they didn’t deal in slaves when very clearly, they were disrupting the stock exchange through the slave trade?</p><p>Well.  It wouldn’t hurt the Republic if he had to sort it out tomorrow.   Slavery was illegal in Pub space, so this had nothing to do officially with Republic concerns. </p><p>That said, Theron was <strong><em>totally</em></strong> going to go to his apartment, pour some Corellian whiskey, and watch it all play out as a spectator sport, just as other men would watch a Huttball game. </p><p>**</p><p>Eva pushed herself to her feet after she ended the conversation with Theron.  He knew what was going on.  If he wanted to watch, then that would be a service charge, filed under VAT. She smirked at the thought as she walked the halls toward the cargo bay.  She paused for a moment, then she pulled her boot knife and sliced through the brace that had stabilized her arm. </p><p>No signs of weakness to report back to the Empire, if the fool was brave enough.</p><p>She let the harness drop to the floor and kicked it aside, out of view of the cargo bay door.  She let herself drop into the Voidhound.  She let that coldness wash over her.  Flat eyes forward, Eva keyed in her captain’s code to override the lock, and she was greeted with a breeze of blood with notes of human sickness and waste.  She shut the door after her. </p><p>In the dimmed lights of the cargo bay, Eva could see a human male collapsed into a pile.  He wore his boots and his Mandalorian helmet.  That was it. </p><p>Akaavi had done her work on him. Efficient as always. </p><p>She stood, back to the wall, arms crossed.  “He says he’ll talk, but he hasn’t said anything yet.  Perhaps positive encouragement from the ship’s captain will loosen his tongue.”</p><p>Eva strolled across the room to stand in front of him.  “I hope you haven’t cut that out of him yet.  We need that so he can go home and tell everyone about me.”</p><p>The tarnished helmet turned upward at the voice.  “Why aren’t you dead?”</p><p>“You should really ask yourself that question.  Honestly now: do you know who I am?”  Eva kept her voice light and in good humor as she spun her vibro-blade with her right hand.  She could see the man tracking her movements.  Smart.</p><p>“Personally, no.  Code name, Voidhound.  Supposedly the great smuggler.”</p><p>“Fair answer.”   She stepped back slightly to lean up against a few stacked crates in the bay, probably where Akaavi had taken her breaks.</p><p>Then she pointedly flipped her knife into her left hand. </p><p>The man on the floor cursed. </p><p>“Yeah, didn’t even cripple me.  That’s not good for you, is it.”  That was a statement.  Everyone knew the answer to the question.  Eva spun the knife around once with her left hand before holstering it in one smooth motion in her boot again.  “So why the assassination attempt?  Three men against one little girl shouldn’t have been too hard, once you disposed of the Wookiee and my friend here.  The others are fodder -- according to my friend.”  Eva made a show of deferring to Akaavi’s authority on the matter; she did hold the man’s life in her hands far more than Eva did, honestly. </p><p>“The employer paid well.  The end result was you dead.  Nobody else.  The employer just wanted you.  They didn’t want the others dead – too much attention.  We weren’t interested in doing excessive labor by cutting through all of them to get to you.”  The words were carefully chosen and rehearsed, as if prepared for this contingency.  She noticed how gender and number was not used in discussion of the employer. </p><p>“That’s fine.  You seem to be reluctant to give up the employer.  No name, no gender, no number.  We have the puck.  We can and will reverse engineer it to find the answer.”</p><p>“If you can avoid blowing your fingers off, sure.” </p><p>Before the words had fully exited his mouth, Eva’s swift foot connected with his stomach, which was already decorated with bruises ranging from yellow-green to deep purple.  “Not a fan of the attitude.  Have some consideration for my crew, my ship, my safety.  Hell, your safety.”  She backed away as he bellowed into the floor. </p><p>Eva rounded her prey.  “You don’t seem to understand that you are currently vestigial to what I want to do next.  That’s a 13-point word for ‘not necessary.’”  The words seemed to cut through the man’s fog of pain, and the yelling stopped.  “You’ve already screwed up by letting me live.  The least we can do is make it look like you tried.” </p><p>She could hear him ready to fire off some smart remark, but he checked himself.  This one was smart after all.  “What do you want from me?”</p><p>“Names.  That way, I know I can trust you to deliver messages back to your employers, your friends, anyone else you think needs to hear.”  Eva opened her hands to gesture at him.  “You give up the names.  If they match the puck, I let you run my messages.  In return, we’d back any story that said my lovely friend here beat you, disfigured you, maimed you, nearly killed you —and you took it like a true warrior and never gave up your employer.” </p><p>“And if I don’t?” </p><p>“You’re an idiot, because my friend here takes the Resol’nare very seriously.  You broke that.” Eva shrugged, and her left shoulder protested.  She kept her face blank.  “I mean, you could protest and say that client anonymity is in line with the Resol’nare, but your cowardly actions haven’t won any points with her.” </p><p>Eva regarded the figure on the floor one last time.  Then she turned to Akaavi.  “Make sure he can still speak and have children.  At least for now.”  The green eyes glowed bright.  “I commend him to your care.” </p><p>Eva walked out without a backwards glance.  Once the cargo bay door swished behind her, she pulled off the boots; their soles were slick with blood, and she didn’t want to track that around the ship.  She was careful only to handle the upper half of the boots as she threw them into a sterilizer compartment for C2 to manage, then she skated over to the galley in her socks.</p><p>Bowdaar was cooking.  It was his joy.  After being poisoned and underfed for nearly a century, he trusted no one with his food.  It wasn’t personal.  Eva let him run the galley, her own tacit show of absolute trust and her gift of power to him, just as she allowed Akaavi to handle any security issues at her own discretion. </p><p>Eva skittered in went to snatch at at a rib that had just been shaved off of a larger carcass.  “Hmmm. Wash your hands if you touched anything in that room,” he lectured her. </p><p>Eva sighed and went to wash her hands at the sink to appease him.  Once she finished, she asked him as she tore into a rib, “You listening in on the proceedings?”</p><p>Bowdaar tapped a claw on the intercom, which had some low voices emerging from it, then a sudden, satisfying thump-squelch.  Then there was silence.  “She’s controlled.  Patient.  I would lack that.  Also, human blood is difficult to remove from fur – sinks in, stains it, and even after you wash, you can smell it.”  He gestured at a few bald patches along his left arm.  “Easier just to cut it off than try to scrub it out.” </p><p>Bowie had cut his fur so he wouldn’t have to look at Eva’s blood. “Sorry about that.”</p><p>He huffed.  “You had nothing to do with being shot.  It’s nothing to give up, knowing you survived.” </p><p>Eva gnawed at the rib.  “You going to join us for the festivities?  We’re dropping the last million codes along with a few other bomb shells.”</p><p>Bowdaar nodded.  “Almost done here.  I can’t wait to see their faces as their riches evaporate.  It calls for good tea as well.  Now shoo. You said you’d call Spike.”</p><p>Eva laughed as she chucked the rib into the trash compactor and wiped her hands clean on a dishrag before heading back out to the lounge.  It was almost tea time, something the denizens of Dromund Kaas would be enjoying it faaaaaar less than she did today.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Deus Ex Machina</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The Voidhound gets her revenge and has a hell of a party at the same time.  Watching from afar, Theron has a realization of doom.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Theron was almost in his apartment when a high-priority encrypted message pushed through his implants.  It had to be important – he’d thrown up all sorts of filters so that he could enjoy the evening in peace.</p><p>Well, as peaceful as a remote drunken rager aboard the <em>Thief </em>with a Captain that played the synthboard while Dromund Kaas burned could be. </p><p>Theron nearly dropped his takeout when he realized the message was <em>from</em> Dromund Kaas.  Ok.  This was going to be nice and awkward. </p><p>Theron safely placed his food on his kitchen counter, locked down all the security in his apartment, and then raised encryption to the highest levels.</p><p>“What?” he asked as he took the message through his implants.</p><p>“The Imperial Stock Exchange is verging on a crash.”  Lana Beniko’s clipped, professional voice was showing strain.</p><p>“And?”</p><p>“Are you causing this?  Or do you know who is?”  She hurried along.  “There’s a rumor that the slave market may have been corrupted by forged chain codes, and the lack of confidence is rattling speculation on the wider exchange.”</p><p>Forged chain---</p><p><em>Of course</em>.  She would never actually deal in sentient beings.  Theron felt an uncontrollable smile break out over his face.  Some part of his normally tamed mind cheered that a dealbreaker was off the table.</p><p>Now he had to try to answer Lana without giving anything away.  “I would have to make some calls to find out a few things,” he stated carefully. </p><p>“Please do.  Darth Marr demands to know, and since Darth Arkous is away, I must provide some answer.”</p><p>Theron’s smile dimmed a bit.  “I understand. I’ll do my best.”  That wasn’t a lie.  He needed Lana alive to bust this conspiracy open.  He cut the comm.  He then reached up to pull down a glass, grabbed that Corellian whiskey he’d received as a parting gift from Eva, and poured himself a shot, slamming it down. </p><p>Theron belatedly remembered that he’d skipped lunch.  Oh well.  He could always turn on his implants to filter things out, if he <em>actually</em> had to do anything. </p><p>Another call came through, the one he’d been waiting for.  1729 – one minute before 1530 Dromund Kaas time. </p><p>Theron immediately accepted it.  “Hey.”  A few moments of silence “Where are you?” came Eva’s puzzled voice.  She couldn’t see him, though T3 was helpfully sending her to him. </p><p>“Setting up dinner right now – just piping you through the implants.  I’ll throw it to the holo comm once I can actually sit down.”  Theron shrugged out of his jacket and began to unpack his supper from the takeout containers. </p><p>“Gotcha.”  Through T3, he could see her moving around the lounge.  Risha was eating to dilute the alcohol, urged on quietly by the Wookiee. “My comm unit says we’re secure and encrypted?”</p><p>“Got a call from Dromund Kaas.  I’m leaving the security on high.  You can speak freely.”</p><p> Eva understood.  “I should have a few names for you in a bit in regard to people you need our mutual Sithy friend to look into.  It wasn’t just one person on the reporting end of the bounty.” </p><p>“Got it,” he murmured.  He immediately noticed that her arm brace was gone and she’d gotten rid of her boots, standing in her socks.  He did not think much further on the subject, deliberately. She was the Voidhound – it was too easy to forget that.  “So how did you get that many slaves?”  Time for a fishing expedition as he stirred the meat and vegetables into his noodles.</p><p>Eva scoffed.  “I don’t deal in slaves – filthy business.   You should know better.”</p><p>“I do.  You may want to perform a small memory cache scrub on T3, since he is SIS property.”  He consulted the whiskey bottle for a moment before pouring himself a generous glass. </p><p>“T3 = knows nothing.”</p><p>Both of them laughed at that.  Guss appeared at the doorway of the lounge. “Captain, your grand finale!”  Guss’s voice preceded a memory stick sailing through the air, and she caught it in her right hand. </p><p>Eva then knelt next to T3 in order to upload the stick’s contents to the droid.  Theron gazed through the droid at her as she carefully keyed in commands into the droid’s interface.  “Fireworks.  And then we have tea at 1600.”  Her face was pensive, the brain churning behind those dark eyes as she laid out timelines and plans. At the same time, he could see the considerably drained Crème d’Infame bottle on the table behind her. </p><p>Theron put out a theory. “Imp public will discover a forgery venture in a few minutes, mysteriously. You’re going to watch the chaos.”</p><p>“You’re good at your job, Theron, you know that?”  she replied, meaning it, but also not committing to his words.  She paced.  The anticipation was killing her, but she relished in it, the eyes bright.  To carry on from the early comparison to a cat, if she had a tail, Theron thought it would be twitching.    </p><p> “How do you plan on finishing it?”</p><p>“Hmm?”</p><p>He repeated himself.  “How do you plan on finishing today on the Imp market?”  Theron placed his meal and his drink on his coffee table, then sat down on his couch.  Now that everything was set, Theron finally ported his image to the holo comm.  </p><p>She gave him a wave as she saw him.  “I don’t.  I’m letting it roll.  It’s not my problem.”</p><p>Theron let a dark smile cross his face.  He was going to enjoy his second alcoholic beverage.  “Wish I was there to join in the festivities.”</p><p>While she was still focused on the Imperial newscasts, he saw her smile widen slightly.  “Hey, you got first refusal.  T3 benefits from your imprudence.”</p><p>“T3 = done.”</p><p>Suddenly, the smile disappeared, and a very intent look appeared on her face as she silently called up a few more screens so she could get a good look at Dromund Kaas and the stock exchange.  “Disconnect, little guy.  Don’t want you to get fried.”    She called for Bowie down the hallway of the <em>Thief</em>. </p><p>Bowdaar entered the view of the little droid again, and he arrived with a hot pot of tea, steam rising from the small vessel.  She was serious about teatime, apparently.   He found himself shaking his head slightly. </p><p>Eva consulted the chrono on the wall of the lounge as she stood up.   Bowdaar tapped her on her good shoulder.  “You need to eat, little girl.”  He urged her to take something from the plate he was offering. </p><p>Obediently, she did so with no resistance, choosing what looked to be a rib from some large creature.   “Bowie makes killer ribs, Theron.  You’re seriously missing out.”</p><p>Theron watched her through his implants as he attempted to quietly slurp noodles from the take-out box with chopsticks.  “This isn’t bad.”</p><p>“It’s not great either.”  Eva swapped her food to her left hand as she reached with her right for her Crème d’Infame bottle, which Risha had thoughtfully left alone during her jaunt to the torture chamber (Theron suspected).  At the same time, Risha was steadily pouring out tea into cups, and Guss sat on the floor, eating Corso’s forgotten leftovers.</p><p><em>Click, snap, thunk.</em>  “Cap, I hacked the puck.”   Coros stared at the two halves in his hands and grabbed the memory stick off T3 to offload the data.</p><p><em>Swish.</em>  “I have three names, Captain.” Akaavi appeared in the doorway of the lounge, and Theron thought he could see some dark substance dripping from her gauntlet.  But maybe it was the whiskey. </p><p>Eva gestured to Corso with the wine bottle.  “You two put your skulls together and have T3 send the final names back over encrypted lines to his handler.” </p><p>As Akaavi and Corso compared information in hushed tones away from T3, Theron’s implants registered another call from Dromund Kaas.  “I have to talk to some mutual friends.  I’ll be right back.”</p><p>There was a slosh as the wine bottle resumed a relatively upright position in Eva’s hands.  She swallowed her mouthful of wine.  “You have fun with that.  Data incoming from a hacked bounty puck – and only the puck, right, Akaavi?”  Through the holo comm, Theron could see Eva pin Akaavi with a sharp glare. </p><p>Akaavi returned with an equally piercing gaze.  “Only the bounty puck.  As we all agreed.” </p><p>Eva hummed to herself as she took another swallow of wine, the corners of her mouth turning upward.  She crossed the room to grab something else off the platter as Theron ended the call and reopened comms with Lana.</p><p>“Please tell me you have something.”  Lana sounded desperate.  He actually felt a little bit bad that she was caught up in this.  But only a little, as her image flickered onto his holocomm viewer in his living room.  She stood with her hands clasped, alert and waiting.  If he knew her better, he might have ventured that she was nervous.  But he didn’t know her. </p><p>“My sources have hacked a bounty puck that came from the Citadel on Dromund Kaas.  I’m sending you three names that put a hit out on the Voidhound.”  Theron paused as he thumbed his implants to receive the data from T3.  “One name is Arkous.  The others appear to be two more highly-placed Sith in your Empire, assumedly fellow Revanites, who fronted the actual money for the hit.” </p><p>Lana stopped all motion for a moment, thinking.  “The Revanites put a hit out on the Voidhound, the top smuggler in the galaxy. Your implication is that the Voidhound is responsible for the slave chain code flood.  Thank you.”  Lana frowned as she grabbed a data pad from somewhere off-screen and began to plow through a search.  “What did the Revanites want with the Voidhound in the first place?”</p><p>Theron twirled his chopsticks as he plucked up a piece of broccoli.  “Does it really matter?  You have your explanation for current events in Dromund Kaas.  Go tell Marr.  He seems to really want to know.”</p><p>Lana squinted at Theron through the holo comm.  “There’s data missing here.  Why would Arkous attempt to kill a very powerful underworld figure through his Revanite connections?  He could do that through his Imperial connections--”  Lana was clever, but she had to think out loud.  Seemed to be a compulsion. “Unless the Voidhound has meddled in Revanite affairs?” </p><p>Theron stared blankly back at the screen, continuing to enjoy his dinner.</p><p>Lana’s lips formed a line, pressing together before she spoke.  “Theron, do you know who the Voidhound is?”</p><p>Theron finished chewing his mouthful and swallowed.  “I don’t think it’s pertinent to your current problem.”</p><p>Lana’s shoulders rose slightly, adjusting the drape of her cape even as her eyes scanned the data pad in her hands.  “I believe it is pertinent to <em>our</em> current problem.  I need to know why Arkous would do something so stupid as to go after someone that powerful through unofficial lines.”</p><p>Theron tilted his head as if to ask why.</p><p>“I don’t want to misdirect Marr accidentally into the correct answer.  To avoid this, I need to know who the Voidhound is.”  Lana waited. </p><p>Theron didn’t want to give his asset up.  He didn’t want her to get burned.  He could live with himself getting burned.   But her…</p><p>He needed to stop drinking.  It was making him think about stupid things, like alleys.</p><p>Fortunately, he had a buzz through his implants again.  “Heads up, Lana.  Apparently, three officers on Makeb just got fragged.”</p><p>Lana tutted.  “I already knew that – one for each of three days in a row.  And I already know who supplied the bounty hunters and excessive amounts of illicit drugs.  The Voidhound.”  Her data pad beeped.  Lana stared at the result.  “The hit was ordered two months ago —”  Lana shut her eyes, rubbing the side of her head in thought. </p><p>In that moment, Theron realized that Eva’s worries had indeed been founded.  They had only caught up to her at Manaan, but it seemed that there had been efforts to track her since the Port Nowhere transmission.  Ivory had struck his mark after all.  Theron felt a cold shudder run up his spine.  He checked any outward motion.</p><p>“First the hit is ordered.  Then Manaan happens.”  Lana tapped on her data pad. “Then a surge in kolto – only available from Manaan – is delivered in Hutt space.  Then Makeb happens.  Then this happens….the hit attempt must have happened recently?  Before Makeb, after the kolto…” </p><p>Lana was Sith Intelligence and possibly the possessor of the single brain cell the entire department shared.  It would be a feather in Theron’s cap to turn her Pub.  He could admire talent when he saw it.  As her mind knit everything together, her yellow eyes sparked.  “Eva Corolastor. Your smuggler. She is the Voidhound.”</p><p>Theron gave her an almost imperceptible nod.  Lana was good at her job. </p><p>“That tiny scrap of humanity – ”  Lana cut herself off as her mind reeled.  Theron narrowed his eyes at the Sith but said nothing.  “She was your asset on the Korriban and Tython missions – Arkous knew of her by then.  It makes sense.”</p><p>“Both Arkous and Darok have been under the misconception that there would be no consequences for killing a smuggler – a tiny scrap of humanity, as you said.”  Theron jabbed at the bottom of the box.   “She’s making sure everyone knows that assessment is woefully inaccurate.  Are we good here, Lana?”</p><p>Lana Beniko straightened up and nodded.  “Thank you.  I will do what I can on this end on the Revanite front. I can…work with the timeline.” </p><p>The comm cut out.  Theron cursed quietly as he silently composed an encrypted, secured, private message. </p><p>
  <em>Don’t burn her.</em>
</p><p>Lana’s perfunctory response came almost immediately.  <em>Acknowledged.  </em></p><p>Theron was going to fucking enjoy watching the Imp stock market tank.  He was before, but now it was going to feel <em>really fucking good.</em></p><p>Theron took another sip of his whiskey before calling Eva back.  Then he finished the glass before calling Eva back.  Then he got up and refilled the glass before calling Eva back.  He brought the bottle back to the living room with him.</p><p>T3 picked up almost immediately and ported him in. </p><p>Smugs were strange creatures.  There was such incongruity in everything Theron was seeing.  The whiskey probably did not help.  Corso was now wearing a ridiculous party hat as he sat on the floor, shoveling down food as if it would run out, all while a dainty teacup sat next to him and three empty beers, one half full.  Bowdaar sat at the lounge table with Risha, both sipping tea.  Akaavi was leaning in the doorway, watching.  C2 had now wandered in and was watching the proceedings as well.  Theron liked this protocol droid.  He didn’t say much. Probably why he liked him. </p><p>Nothing beat Eva going pinky-up with her teacup as she stood, patiently waiting for --- something.  “How’s tricks with the Sith?” she guessed as his image flickered to life on her ship.</p><p>“Makeb was another complication,” he answered.  He saw her smirk into her cup of tea.  Theron sipped his whiskey. “You are thorough in your revenge.  I don’t think they’ll bother you again.”</p><p>“That’s the point,” Eva answered firmly. </p><p>Suddenly, the newscast chatter picked up, and Risha’s attention was finally dedicated to the main holo terminal rather than her data pad or foodstuff.  “Here it goes,” she murmured.  Eva turned to put her tea down, and she waited, as if watching a set-play from her favorite athletic team. </p><p>“Boss, it’s going.”  Guss set aside his food to watch.  Theron briefly turned his implants’ attention to the Imp Stock market, overlaying it with his view of <em>Virtue’s Thief.</em> </p><p>There was a dip.  100 points down. </p><p>200 points.</p><p>500 points.</p><p>1000 points.</p><p>“Look at the ticker, Cap.”  Corso pointed.  The rumors about the slave codes being fake were officially being reported in the news.  By this point, the first batch had gone through three or four different hands</p><p>Eva’s cheerful voice rang out.  “Tankity tank.”   </p><p>Bowdaar roared his approval as the numbers began to thrash.  Up 200, down 300.  Up 400, down 600.  Up 100, down 125. </p><p>Akaavi’s green eyes flickered across the screen.  “For those without honor, money is the most valuable thing.  Efficient and impressive.” </p><p>“Yup. Wait for it.”  Akaavi’s approval only made Eva’s unabashed toothy grin larger and wider. </p><p>Suddenly, the screens all blacked out – gone were the reporters and the live scenes from the capital.  Now, the white letters of the various tickers and the numbers of the volatile market were plastered across a dark logo: PN.</p><p>Port Nowhere.</p><p>“That is a nice design, Corso.  The purple really works with the black and grey,” Guss complimented the man with the party hat who was now four beers into a six-pack, working on the fifth.  He gave a lopsided smile. </p><p>Meanwhile Eva punched the air once in triumph as she walked around the holoterminal inspecting her work from every angle.  “Take that, Imp scum.” </p><p>Hearing that was a massive turn-on for Theron, unexpectedly.  <em>Stars preserve me</em>, he helplessly thought as her motion drew his attention to skin exposed by the first three buttons undone at the top of her shirt. </p><p>The market had tanked another few hundred points by this point.  For fifteen minutes, Theron watched the crew animatedly talked about the market, about the cash they’d made, about how other key industries were seizing  up and faltering.  Eva contributed to the conversation, but her gaze was fixed on the numbers and the Port Nowhere emblem. </p><p>She was so<em>…</em>  Watching her, Theron had that familiar stupid grin plastered all over his face, and he felt heat creeping up around his shirt collar. </p><p>It wasn’t just because of the whiskey or her shirt.</p><p>Theron enjoyed looking at Eva.  In general.  A lot.  Something inside him added to the observation: he wanted to be on <em>Virtue’s Thief</em> to do a lot more than just look. </p><p>The sense of dread that trickled in was stoppered up by the alcohol, but he knew it would return.  Better keep drinking.  Just to have tonight, guilt-free.  Kill all the brain cells that stood in the way of just letting go, for once.  She was safe from him, light-years away. </p><p>Suddenly, the Port Nowhere emblem flickered out.  Eva cast a look over at T3.  “You’re completely disconnected, right?”</p><p>“T3 = safe.”</p><p>The hubbub of the lounge began to die down as all the numbers blinked off the screen, as if someone had found an override. </p><p>“Market = frozen.  Trade = stopped,” T3 reported hurriedly. </p><p>Eva frowned.  “Exchange shut down entirely?  It’s closing over a half-hour early.”</p><p>“Affirmative.”</p><p>Darth Marr appeared on the screen. </p><p>Eva stepped back from the holo terminal, as if it were a venomous creature.  Theron saw her just close up, the flat eyes appearing and her joy evaporating.</p><p>With a twitch of his jaw, he activated the implants that removed the lusty, tipsy haze he’d let himself fall into, and anger surged through to replace those rare, pleasant feelings.  <em>Beniko.  </em></p><p>From his position on the floor, Corso managed to slur out, “Oh, shit.  Plot twist.” </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Our lord and savior has arrived!</p><p>#MarrforEmperor2020</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. A Night on the Tiles</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Darth Marr resolves the crisis for the Empire and grows suspicious of Arkous.  The crew celebrates, Theron feels more doom, and Eva leaves the party to deal with a small problem.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter is a shorter, fluffier one before the conclusion of the story.  I have started writing more Lana-narrated sections of other stories, but I'm not sure if I have her voice quite right yet (feedback welcome on that).   </p><p>For the music in this chapter, you're free to imagine what fits for you (since Star Wars is a long, long time ago in a galaxy far, far way).  For me personally:</p><p>For Bowie and his Captain, "You Never Can Tell" by Chuck Berry, stealing from Pulp Fiction's dance scene between Mia and Vince.<br/>For the Three Musketeers (Eva, Risha, and Corso), "Hung Up" by Madonna.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>20 minutes earlier</em>
</p><p>Lana Beniko strode down the hallway, mind darting about the new information she uncovered.  Most of all, she circled around the fact that the Voidhound was… her. Lana was at least ten centimeters taller than she was, substantially more powerful, better connected, and far more organized.</p><p>And yet who had the Empire on its knees? </p><p>That did rankle.  That said, Lana took some small comfort that this smuggler had shown up the Republic.  <em>She</em> was more effective than their entire military-industrial complex at dealing with the Empire.</p><p>Lana had to somehow explain this to Darth Marr, who was stewing within his armor.    She recalled his last words to her before she had been dismissed to use her intel contacts.</p><p>
  <em>“I need to know who is doing this and their motivations.  It is impossible to develop a strategy without this information.  The economic situation in the Empire is admittedly more tenuous than the public perceives.  The clock is ticking, Beniko.  I’ll not have every gain over the last year be dashed in a single afternoon.”</em>
</p><p>Makeb had been critical to keeping the Empire in the war against the Republic.  Now, it was one more set piece leveraged against the Empire by a vengeful third party.  Lana had no idea what solution could be wrought from this crisis, but if there were one person – through sheer love of the institution and force of will – that could save the Empire, it was Darth Marr.</p><p>The door swished open.  Before she could actually cross the room and bend the knee at the appropriate place on the carpet, Darth Marr’s voice rumbled like deep thunder across the office, even as he faced the window.  “Beniko, what answers do you have for me?”  As Lana rushed to the center of the office, Marr dismissed any rank-appropriate groveling, not bothering to turn around yet.  “No time for ingratiating gestures.  Give your report.”  </p><p>Lana remained upright, back straight.  “Darth Marr, it appears that the slave market has been destabilized by the Voidhound.”</p><p>Marr cut in quickly. “The successor of the Voidwolf.  Why?” </p><p>Lana lined her toes up on the Imperial emblem on the carpet beneath her boots.  “It appears Darth Arkous put out a bounty on the Voidhound’s head.  I suspect it was due to the Voidhound’s recent involvement on Makeb – the illicit export of isotope-5 threatens our hold on that world.”</p><p>Now Marr turned around.  “Arkous has started a disproportionate amount of trouble for what remains of Makeb.”</p><p>Lana allowed her discipline to settle her mind, as a tranquil ocean under dark skies, in case Marr attempted to rifle through her mind, casually.  From what she had heard, he had a subtle and delicate touch when it came to mind probes, off-set by the abject terror that consumed his interrogation targets before he even spoke.  She would not be hysterical with fear, but that level-headedness still might not guard her thoughts against a Sith of Marr’s power and skill.  “The Voidhound appeared also to be assisting in the assassination of high-ranking officers on Makeb and the import of deathsticks and spice.” </p><p>Marr scoffed.  “Beniko, you fall victim to Sith arrogance.  Arkous resorted to bounty hunters to do a job that should have been the privilege of a Dark Council member or one of their apprentices -- Harridax Kirill was an admiral of the Imperial Navy, regardless of his birth, and the Voidhound is no less formidable, even as a Republic whelp.”  Marr cut himself off to stare out at Dromund Kaas’ streets again. </p><p>Lana breathed carefully.  “I do not believe the Voidhound to be allied strongly to the Republic."</p><p>
  <em>Peace is a lie.</em>
</p><p>Marr turned on his heel and snarled as he marched toward Lana.  “The Empire is disgustingly lucky, then, that the Voidhound isn’t a flag-waving Republic jingo.  If this is what the Voidhound does for money, imagine what they would do with an ounce of true passion.”</p><p>
  <em>There is only passion.</em>
</p><p>Lana turned her eyes to the floor.  “If we attempt to strike at the Voidhound again, we may yet provoke that. I would not advise ---”</p><p><em>Through passion, I gain strength</em>. </p><p>Marr cut her off.  “Look.” </p><p>Lana turned her head toward the holoscreen in Marr’s office.  Her eyes raced over the information.  “The stock exchange is in free-fall.  The chain codes are indeed fake.  And – PN?”    Lana blinked rapidly for a second.  “Port Nowhere, sir.  The Voidhound’s personal haven.” </p><p>Marr let out a rasping noise that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.  “The solution is straight-forward, then, Beniko.  Your perception is noted.  I will end this threat.” With a jerk of his helmet, Marr wordlessly ordered Lana to follow him down the hall to the Citadel’s broadcast center.  “Let the Voidhound run off with their credits clutched in their jaws.  We will start anew in a few months, once this snarl of forgeries is sorted out. Meanwhile, I shall grow the military and its support staff to its greatest extent.  We will not lose this war.” </p><p>
  <em>Through strength I gain power.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>**</em>
</p><p>Soon, the image of Darth Marr spoke over an Empire-wide holo-cast.    </p><p>“The Imperial Stock Exchange has been destabilized by recent rogue activity on the slave market.  It will reopen tomorrow morning as usual.  In order to maintain good order and stability within the Imperial and its labor force, the slave market is suspended for the next six months.  The Imperial Military thus announces its enlistment of all slave codes available on the market through Imperial Code 7.08.33, which establishes a set minimum price.  This grand endeavor will secure the stability of the Sith Empire in the face of all foes for all of its peoples. The war effort is paramount, now more than ever.  In turn, the people will render up more for the sake of the Empire and its preservation. Our glory will not be diminished by the slings and stones of enemies.  For the Empire.” </p><p>The image cut out.  The screens went black. </p><p>Eva’s mouth was agape.  Eventually, her right hand with splayed fingers covered it, partially.  Eyes open wide and eyebrows raised high, she turned to look at her crew.  They were all frozen, mouths stuck in a dropped position.  Even Akaavi, which was a feat.</p><p>Theron was simply dumbstruck on his couch in Coruscant. </p><p>Eva’s voice was thin.  “Am … Am I getting this right?  We made a lot of money...  We ended the slave trade in the Empire for at least six months…and…I think he meant that we just jacked up the Imperial tax rate.”</p><p>Theron’s Adam’s apple bobbed.  “Yes.  I think that covers it.”</p><p>
  <em>Through power I gain victory.</em>
</p><p>A weak, frantic laugh escaped her covered lips.  Then it came again, a bit stronger.  Both hands came up to run her fingers through her hair as she began to cackle, seemingly disregarding any discomfort in her injured shoulder.  The Captain shouted at the ceiling of the lounge, something along the lines of “kriff, yeah” and then the crew came out of its stupor. </p><p>Bowdaar came to first, joining his captain in yelling about the victory, followed shortly by Guss going in search of champagne and Risha returning to her giggles over the profit.  Corso was having another beer, simply staring up at Eva in adoration.  Akaavi could nothing but smile and clamp a firm hand on Eva’s shoulder, soon finding herself pulled in a hug before Bowie grabbed both of them and hoisted them into the air, one in each arm. </p><p>Theron felt his defense crumble as a happy rush overwhelmed him.  The feelings that had been dispelled by the activation of his implants were back.  They were now running loose without the aid and abetting of alcohol.  He wanted to be there with her, looking like a fool for her. </p><p>Theron wanted to deal her in.</p><p>He realized he was so monumentally screwed, even as his implants translated Bowie’s crowing. “You freed them – something so small broke so many chains.”</p><p>
  <em>Through victory, my chains are broken.</em>
</p><p>“Who needs the Force?”  Guss hollered as he popped the cork on the champagne he’d retrieved from some bolthole on the ship and there was a frenzy as the crew raced to find tea cups to catch the cascading foam before it went to waste as it hit the deck. </p><p>Theron reached for his whiskey and raised his glass, and the crew toasted him and each other through the holo screen.  Eva quaffed champagne as she periodically broke out in peals of laughter, trying to restrain the euphoria but finding it impossible. </p><p>“Gods, what a night,” Theron finally managed to hear. Theron got off a quick memo off to Trant, noting the mass enlistment for the Imp military as a result of the crisis, but also the assured destabilization of every element of the Sith Empire's economy that wasn't connected to the military.  </p><p>The party continued on.  There was chatter about what SIS would think of this, what Lana was going to do, and whether there would be anything left of Makeb by next month.  The night swirled. </p><p>Eventually, Eva stopped to pitch her ear toward a speaker on the ship. “And they’re playing our song, Bowie.  Computer, raise the volume.”</p><p>With a final swig of the champagne, Eva flexed her wrist as she looked to Akaavi, who quickly raised her own hand to catch the sailing teacup.  More cheering and laughter erupted as the Wookiee started to dance with his captain, something they’d done many times before.  The music was something from a bygone era, something that Bowie might have heard when he was <em>her</em> age, when he was young and not yet completely hardened as a gladiator.  The rest of the crew bopped along, but nothing as elaborate as the practiced steps of Bowie and his captain. </p><p>When the next track clicked on, Eva was off down the hallway with a shout, Corso and Risha hot on her heels, the three of them singing loudly to some pop song.  Theron vaguely recalled it.  It might have been a hit five years ago?  Would make sense, if that was when they all first met.  Theron was awful with music.  Suddenly, “T3!” rang out from down the hall, and the little droid followed. </p><p>The little droid caught up to the three as they rampaged around the circular hallway of <em>Virtue’s Thief</em>, dancing and singing obnoxiously. </p><p>Theron didn’t mind.  It was a happy night, for once. </p><p>Risha, still buzzing away on Crème d’Infame and champagne, gestured to the droid as Corso and Eva carried on up the hallway.  “Is Spy Guy still watching?”</p><p>“Yeah, I’m still here.”</p><p>“You have a nice ass.  Eva never told me that.” Theron took very deep swallow of his whiskey as Risha caught up with her companions. </p><p>Eva leaned back against a wall to catch her breath for a second, shaking a finger at Risha.  “The last time I told you I thought someone had a nice ass, you arranged for me to spend a night in the local jail, so you could have him.”</p><p>“Well, I got a rash from that, so it looks like you won anyway – as always.”  The girls descended into peals of drunken laughter.</p><p>Corso suddenly stuck his face into T3’s camera.  “Hey, Spy Guy, don’t think you’re anything special.  Eva ain’t dancing for you – she’s a—whassit?”  He looked behind him at Risha and Eva who were still talking shit about each other as they laughed.  Risha lunged forward, obscuring Theron’s view of Eva. </p><p>Risha staggered to get in front of the camera, trying to elbow Corso out, laughing.  “A free – a free –” </p><p>Corso tried to help her, but they soon stumbled over each other, falling out of the line-of-sight of T3’s camera, their tipsy chuckles rolling by as they made their way back toward the lounge party.</p><p>Distantly, T3 could still see Eva moving down the hallway, turning the bend in time to the music that was still blaring over the ship’s comm.  Without any urging, T3 beeped and scurried to catch up to her. </p><p>Theron watched her dance – not for him, not for anybody else but herself.  Whatever Corso and Risha had wanted to say, it was true: she was free.  He indulged himself for a few seconds as her hips rocked and her feet stepped in time to the music. </p><p>But he was not a voyeur – he reminded her, “I’m still here, you know.” </p><p>Eva looked over at T3.  “You’re still missing out, you know.  Are you drinking with us tonight?”</p><p>“Yes, indeed.  That whiskey you sent me off with.”</p><p>She smiled at him through the holo comm.  “You’re welcome here, even with T3, if you ever want to do some off-site drinking.”</p><p>Theron gave her a smile.  “I’ll keep that in mind.”  Her words made him realize how pathetic this was, watching a party through an astromech as he drank alone in his apartment.  Theron consulted the bottom of his whiskey glass. </p><p>She gently tipped her head toward the entrance to the cockpit. “I need your help, T3,” Eva said to the droid.  “It appears we have a tiny emergency.”</p><p>“T3 = ready!”  Eva grinned as she spun her way into the control center of the <em>Thief.</em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Love in the Time of Technoplague</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A final conversation between the Smuggler and the Spy.  What is love, anyway?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Obediently, the little droid rolled after Eva.  “Now,” she drawled as she slid into her captain’s chair.  “Between the three of us, I do adhere to the strict rule of no drinking and flying. However, everyone else on the ship has also imbibed, so T3, if you would be so kind, double-check my math so I don’t light skip into a planet or a garbage scow.”  Eva’s long, graceful fingers swept over the control boards and screens of the <em>Thief</em>, the lights running dark.  “If you can, try to smooth out the ride – at least two of my misfits get motion sick if I take a turn too fast.”</p><p>Theron frowned for a moment.  “You got a sensor contact?” </p><p>Eva tapped her wrist comm.  “Just one.  Might be a mercantile vessel, might be a scout.  Better safe than sorry.  Which is why we have one responsible adult here to make sure I get us out of here.”  Eva pat T3. </p><p>The little droid did indeed purr.  “T3 = responsible // T3 = keeps <em>Thief</em> safe.”</p><p>As she worked, Eva cast a few glances out of the windows of the XS cockpit.  “I will say this part of Imp space is pretty.  You need to get off Coruscant sometime, Theron.  You can’t see anything out there.”</p><p>“It’s because I’ve been off Coruscant lately that I’m staying where Trant can see me for now.  And Coruscant does have good restaurants,” he offered. He knew because he’d gotten take-out from a <em>lot</em> of them. </p><p>Eva shook her head.  “All that light pollution.  How can you stand not seeing the stars?”</p><p>Theron shrugged.  “I know they’re out there, whether I see them or not.  And I know I’ll see them soon.” </p><p>Eva made a few adjustments to her navigation path.  “I can only take that much light pollution in small doses.  I belong here.”  With a wave of her hand, Theron looked beyond her image into the night sky.  “You can throw him a sparkly light show with the sensor data, T3, if his holo comm is good enough.”</p><p>“It is.”  With that, T3 projected the night sky into his now dark apartment, lighting up the place.  She was right.  Coruscant was dark and dreary in comparison. “You belong to the stars?”</p><p>“Born in transit.  Hopefully will go the same way too.  It’s all home.  I don’t have a specific point I’m attached to.  You?”</p><p>Theron shook his head.  “Nah. I went to a lot of places when I was a kid.  The Jedi master I was with – Ngani Zho – he was home, my father.  Wherever he was, I was fine.  Until the whole Jedi thing didn’t work out.”  <em>Don’t be a downer.  </em>   </p><p>Eva tenderly “hmmed.”  Theron imagined it was much closer to his ear than it was.   “As you know, I’m a smuggler’s kid. One of a kind.  I didn’t have little friends to run around with, just my parents’ friends.  Wherever they all were, I was happy.”</p><p>“The locations change, but the people don’t.  That’s easy for a kid to handle, I think. Or at least easier than having a revolving door of people, handing you off from one person to the next.”  That started when Theron was 13.  <em>Great Original Light, stop being an abject bastard about this. Enjoy it.</em>  “What’s Smug Life: Kid Edition like?”</p><p>Eva let a brief ‘ha!’ out and then paused for a moment.  “Always entertaining.  Always finding something to do on the ship – the crew used to just be me and my parents and our droid.  So there was no division of labor – whoever got to it first did it.”</p><p>Theron wondered, “No school?”</p><p>Eva shook her head.  “Criminals don’t like giving out their locations to schoolteachers or Holonet course providers.”</p><p>Theron leaned forward on the couch.  “You’re not—” </p><p>“I am a criminal.  They were too.  We were criminals.  We are criminals, since I think Dad still has some outstanding warrants.”  Oddly enough, that made her smile.  “I’m not ashamed.” He saw that elegant chin rise up as a bit of a challenge.  “I’m only a little insecure about not having any formal education.  Risha gives me guff about it when she’s angry at me.  Likely rightfully.” </p><p>Theron considered this for a moment.  “You don’t think you could ever go straight? Because of all the educational qualifiers most jobs have?”</p><p>Eva looked over at him.  “Why would I want to? Have you seen how much money I’m making?”  That set her giggling, and her hands went up to hair to pull it loose from its already disheveled pony tail.  She let the elastic settled on her wrist as she smoothed the hair back away from her face. </p><p>He smiled.  The last time he’d seen her like this, they were having coffee.  She was in her pajamas – it was really cute.  “Your education was probably a lot more fun than mine.  I went to military academy at 13 – wasn’t too different from learning Jedi disciplines, except the haircuts were dumber and the dress code was even more boring.”</p><p>Eva peered at his head. “That’s your grand protest after the fact?”</p><p>Theron ran his fingers up and through his hair.  He could style it in a more respectable fashion, but he knew the fauxhawk annoyed Trant. </p><p>And Jace. </p><p>And Satele. </p><p>Theron was keeping it.   “That, and ridiculously colored socks and underwear.”  <em>Oh, wow, you are totally done with the whiskey for the night.  </em></p><p>Eva laughed out loud.  He could see her thinking about his briefs for a split second, and it seemed to throw her.  For once, Theron had <em>her</em> a little hot and flustered.  <em>Good.</em>  “So after graduating--?” she attempted to recover.</p><p>“At 16, I joined the SIS, with a few years of specialty training interspersed with missions and swoop racing.  I was a full-fledged agent by the time I was 21.” He let a smile tug at his lips.  “Not nearly as impressive as being a starship captain at 21.”</p><p>Eva distractedly murmured as her eyes darted upward at a screen.  “The novelty didn’t last long.”</p><p> <em>You idiot, remember how she become a captain?  </em>“Sorry.”  He meant it. </p><p>Eva shrugged.  “It’s fine. I just didn’t expect to start when I did. I liked being a stupid kid.”  </p><p>“Now there’s something you can speak to that I can’t: being a real kid, I mean.  I missed out.  Tell me about it.”</p><p>Eva cast a glance at him.  “You really want to hear this?”  She flipped a few switches.  “You’ve got a load of intel on me, no doubt.   You probably know it.” </p><p>Theron shook his head. “You and your parents were good at living off-grid.  I have the date the ship transferred to you automatically.  That’s it.  There’s more to them than the end.”  A beat. “I’m pretty sure you have more happy and interesting things to say than I ever would about…anything related to attachments.”</p><p>She smiled, but there was a mix of emotions that came with it. Eva kicked her feet up on the dashboard and reclined her chair slightly to get more comfortable.  “Hadrian – Dad -- ran the ship.  He was my primary caregiver – Ma – Athene – was busy with the actual business of smuggling.  That gave Hadrian a lot of time to goof off with me and do really stupid shit.”</p><p>“And read sky pirate novels?”  Theron found himself mirroring her position, except he lay down on his couch as they talked.  He could see the curve of her collarbone in the pale light of the starship’s dashboard.</p><p>“Yes, that’s an entirely separate category from doing really stupid shit.  Oh, and smoking in highly flammable places on board: that’s like a meta-category for everything he did.”  She looked out at the stars. “I had fun.  Learned how to run this entire ship, mechanically.  Good father. Sometimes an overgrown man-child, but there are reasons for that.  He was crazy about my mother.  And me.  Mostly her.”</p><p>Theron couldn’t decide whether he should look at her or at the stars that were projected on his ceiling.  Both were beautiful.  “You don’t mention her as often.”</p><p>She gestured to T3 to check her math before she activated the light skip pattern.  “How do I put it?  Hadrian was everything you think a smuggler is: gregarious, hard-drinking, a fighter, slightly demented.  He knew how to run cons and repair anything. He had a consistent level of shadiness around him.  He was able to rally the troops.  Also, great hair.”  She ran her right hand back through her thick, lustrous hair.  “That’s how smugs should front themselves – my father.” </p><p>She swallowed and consulted the ceiling for a moment.  “Athene was how a good business backroom person should be.  Quiet.  Watching.  Emotions checked.  Notes taken. Observant.  Patient.  Gets results. She was the pilot.  She taught me.  She does – did the brain work of the enterprise.  I still use her systems, so it’s kind of like she’s here. Hadrian was smart enough to do whatever she said.  Me too.”</p><p>“Doesn’t sound as warm,” Theron observed.  He could relate to that. He stretched one arm over his head, and the other rested across his torso. </p><p>Eva shook her head and her chest rose and fell in her haste to correct him.  “No, she was.  I did quiet things with her – you’d probably think it was nauseatingly cute or sickly sweet.  I guess it was more – normal parenting? There were dolls, songs, dancing, reading.  Little girl stuff.”  She blinked slowly as some of those images passed her eyes.  “I yelled for my ma when I had nightmares….Risha says I still do.”</p><p>For some reason, that made Theron’s heart hurt. </p><p>“Ma was different from Dad.  She wasn’t into doing dumb things with explosives, droid repairs, and pickpocketing.”</p><p>“At the same time?” Theron joked.</p><p>“Yeah, Hadrian was ambitious regularly.”  She wasn’t joking, and she was not sorry about the events, as her grin grew large. Some laughter crept out uncontrollably at the memory.  “Hadrian was a smuggler or at least the face for it.  Athene was a businesswoman and a mother who happened to be in the smuggling business.  Ironically, she was the one who brought Hadrian into the game – but that’s another story.” </p><p>Theron thought for a moment.  “You refer to them by their first names.  That makes sense for me, but … why?  If you were happy.”</p><p>“I inherited their routes and their friends.  Calling them ‘Ma’ and ‘Dad’ when I spoke about them would be weird.  I mean, it slips out sometimes, but after almost nine years, it’s mostly habit.  It’s not a reflection of how much I love them and miss them.  Which I do.” </p><p>Theron stared up at the stars on his ceiling.  “You say it so easily.”</p><p>Eva shifted her weight slightly to lean more on her right shoulder, looking more directly at T3’s holo cam than she had previously.  “Hmmm?”</p><p>“Love.  As if you don’t think twice about it.”</p><p>“I…don’t,” she answered, simply.  “It’s what it was.  What it is.”</p><p>Theron rolled slightly to look more directly at her as well.  “No insecurity, no doubt, no debate.”</p><p>Eva didn’t say anything as she pillowed her head with an arm as she turned to face him fully.  Theron’s tired mind tried to form some witty commentary about a heavenly body as he got a good view of her décolletage, but the effort never fully manifested.</p><p>“I’ve heard it should be that way,” he said instead.</p><p>“It should be, you’re right. It can be.  It isn’t always,”  Eva finally spoke.  “You might have no insecurities, no doubts, no debates – but then there’s the other person.”</p><p>Now Theron waited. Seconds ticked by as they had silent conversation.</p><p>Her eyes closed as she continued, dark lashes standing out against the pale of her face.  “Everyone lies.  You just hope that they don’t lie about loving you.”</p><p>“What if they never say?” He asked quietly.</p><p>Her dark eyes opened to meet his.  “That doesn’t stop you from being honest.  From saying the words.  From loving them anyway.”</p><p>“That just puts all of your vulnerabilities on display.  It’s dangerous, even for a spy,” Theron murmured.  “Excruciating if they say no.”</p><p>“But imagine the ecstasy of yes.”  The corners of her mouth turned upward. </p><p>Theron despised himself as he went for the kill.  “What if that was the lie?”</p><p>The flatness crawled over her eyes for a moment, but she shed the snakelike appearance.  “Then you ask yourself, was it about you personally?  Or would they have said it to anyone?”</p><p>Theron knew he was wading into deep waters.  After dinner, drinks, celebrations, and words that turned his head, he wasn’t sure anymore whether they were talking about each other, his parents, her parents, her past relationships, his attempts at attachments, all of them, none of them.  “How would – a person --  ever do it again, if it was all a lie?”</p><p>“You’re asking a gambler that question.  After you lose it all in a bad night, why do you come back to a different game and do it all again?”  She used her left hand to carefully, slowly, pull a few strands of hair behind her ear.</p><p>“The opportunity.”</p><p>“The risk.”</p><p>“The test of skill.”</p><p>“The thrill of a little victory.”</p><p>“The rush of more as the games go on.”</p><p>“The danger of losing what little you have.”</p><p>“And then the big win,” Theron finished the analogy.  “But if someone wins big once, why would they keep coming back?  The odds are against them.”</p><p>Eva arched one eyebrow at him.  “Because all love is a game of risk – friends, family, lovers, allies.  You might not call it ‘love’ – attachments, comradery, whatever.  We gamble all the time, each individual person we come across.  Sometimes the house is against us and we get nowhere.  Other times, we have modest victories.  Rarely, the night is completely ours.” </p><p>“You’re talking about gambling with your own emotions, your own well-being, your –”  Theron suddenly stopped short.  In his mind, he reached for and grabbed the nexus.  “The Jedi don’t go to casinos.” </p><p>
  <em>There is no emotion, there is peace.  </em>
</p><p>“Because that all those feelings lead to the dark side, I guess?  Lot of risk.” Eva pushed the words out carefully, watching as Theron thought through the implications.</p><p>“Better to play it safe.  No risks,” Theron acknowledged.  Then he sighed at himself. “I like risk too much.  I hate to be bored…in any sense.”  Tiredly, he felt his lip curl up slightly.  “Good thing I’m not a Jedi.” </p><p>“I know I’m glad.”</p><p>Theron felt a jolt of heat from her words, and a smile crossed his face.  T3 finally beeped at her. </p><p>“Good to go then?” she asked.  T3 buzzed.  “Light skips don’t play well with comms, so I think I have to say good night, Theron.  You look exhausted.”</p><p>He shifted on his couch.  “Going to bunk right there?”</p><p>Eva gave a half-shrug.  “I still got a party in the back – the night is young.  Once we’re safe, I’ll head back in and continue being irresponsible. I might end up here though, when the night really ends.  You?”</p><p>“Maybe.  Had a late night last night, and I got this really nice light show someone sent me – don’t want to move.”</p><p>That made her smile without hesitation, and he felt himself returning it.  “Night, Theron.  Thanks for T3.  Once I figure out where he’s skipped us to, I’ll make arrangements to bring him back to you.” </p><p>“Understood.  Night, Eva.”  Her holo image clicked off as <em>Virtue’s Thief </em>made the jump, but the star data sent by T3 remained on his ceiling. </p><p>Theron’s eyes were heavy, and despite the air conditioning of his apartment, he was comfortably warm as he lay on his couch. It was a good night.  As much as he had wanted to go, he knew it was better that he had stayed – at least for his SIS career, judging by Trant’s tone today.  As he wavered at the edge of awareness, other desires persisted even after he was asleep under her stars.</p><p>
  <em>Peace is a lie.</em>
</p><p>**</p><p>Two days later, the unit known as T3-G2 rolled into SIS Headquarters unattended with its cache wiped.  It had a series of newly secured memory cells, accessibly only to the droid and those with a passcode.  Upon receiving his droid, Agent Theron Shan found that stashed inside of the droid’s chassis, there was a single bottle of Crème d’Infame.</p><p>Agent Shan then received another round of notifications that more Imp officers had been fragged on Makeb.  The death rate from the influx of drugs was skyrocketing. </p><p>When Agent Shan returned to his desk, he found a holo vid from Dromund Kaas that showed a male Mandalorian bounty hunter being dumped off the back of an unregistered XS Light freighter, wearing nothing but his boots and his helmet.</p><p>All in a night’s work. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks to everyone reading this installment.  Hope you've enjoyed! Please feel free to either follow the series or follow me as an author to get notification of the next story in the series (coming in about 2 weeks).  </p><p>Thanks again!</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I saw a post whilst lurking on reddit asking for submissions for the Fic Journal of the Plague Year.  I started writing this two weeks ago, as the stock market began its precipitous plunge; the second half of this story was written before the first.  The fragility of financial systems is something that a smuggler would recognize, if she were wronged.  I've mentioned the differences in Republic and Imperial economies before in my fiction, and so this is a logical continuance of those thoughts.  </p><p>The first half of this story is more lighthearted, dealing with lab theft while helping out an intelligence contact, Theron Shan  "Technoplague" is an alias within the Empire for Theron; it's not a disease itself but rather the destruction he wrought during the novel "Annihilation," which ultimately resulted in the deaths of two members of the Dark Council. In that vein, the new 'technoplague' is an attack on a system key to Imperial operations, and Theron's involvement is....we'll see.</p><p>sullustangin.tumblr.com</p></blockquote></div></div>
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